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^‘SKEETER” 





SKEETER" 

McCOY 


A TALE OF 

AMERICAN BOARDING SCHOOL 
LIFE 



By SYDNEY JOHNSTON LODGE 


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To all of the boys whom I 
have known this book is af^ 
fectionately dedicated. 










INDEX OF CHAPTERS. 


Page 

L— The ^^New Guy^’ 13 

11. — The Enemy Strikes 32 

III. — Shunned 46 

VI. — In the Valley of the Shadow 57 

V.— Sanders^ Mill 71 

VI. — A Victory and a Discovery 87 

VII.— Jerr/s 102 

VIII. — The Enemy Serves 117 

IX. — Bound by Loyalty 135 

X.— Put to the Test 151 

XL— Foiled 163 

XII. — The Way of the Transgressor 177 

XIIL— The Echo of the Bell 190 

XIV.— Valor Redeems 210 

XV.— The Mite Does His Bit 223 

XVI. — From Out the Past 237 

XVII.— The Last Stand 249 

XVIII.— When Defeat is Triumph 265 

XIX.— All In All 275 





Copyright 1919, by 
SYDNEY JOHNSTON LODGE 




CHAPTER I. 

The “New Guy.” 

T he September sun was low in the West and 
from the car window the flying landscape 
seemed to be bathed in a mixture of crim- 
ton and gold. Long evening shadows crept ghost- 
like forward, slowly dimming the luster shed by 
the dying sun. Night was near and the beautiful 
New England farm lands, through which the N. 
S. and W. accommodation train rumbled on, lay 
calm and peaceful ’neath the melancholy light of 
approaching dusk. 

Soon, here and there, in the open or twinkling 
among the trees, dim lights from near-by farm- 
houses pierced the fast thickening darkness. 

The boy sat motionless, his elbows resting on 
the window-ledge of the coach, his head supported 
by the palm of his hand. His face was pressed 
close to the pane yet it would require but a glance 
to convince one that his thoughts were not upon 
the passing panorama without. 

He was young, hardly past fourteen. His face 
was of that genial, open variety which seems at 
13 


‘‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

once to invite confidence and bespeak sincerity. 
Neatly garbed in a blue serge suit, knickerbocker 
style, cream shirt with soft collar, dark tie and 
gray cap, he looked every inch the American boy. 
His expression, though frank, was pathetic. About 
the corners of the mouth a slight twitching could 
be detected and in the boyish blue eyes a troub- 
led light seemed to hover, give way to a vacant 
stare — reappear. Just the semblance of a frown 
contracted the manly forehead and brow. Beside 
him, on the cushion seat, lay a small grip marked : 
“C. R. Me., Passaic, N. J.” 

*' How long the silent little lad would have re- 
mained in this dejected attitude, alone in his mis- 
ery, is a matter for conjecture. The kindly old 
conductor of the accommodation had more than 
once cast wondering and sympathetic eyes upon 
him as he made his rounds of fare-collecting. Sev- 
eral times he had been on the point of speaking 
to the lonely little passenger but each time had 
thought better of his resolve. “Poor little lad,” 
he would mutter to himself, “new boy for Green- 
shore, I wager; clean-cut looking little chap, too. 
Homesick to be sure, but he'll soon get over that 
once the Captain takes him in hand.” Then he 
would pass on down the aisle, swinging his punch 
14 


THE ^‘NEW GUY/’ 

and spreading sunshine on every hand by his 
beaming countenance, hearty hand-shakes and 
friendly, winning nods of greeting to acquaint- 
ances among the passengers. 

The train crept wearily on through the dark- 
ness, making frequent stops to discharge and take 
on passengers. At Somerset a longer stop than 
usual was made, although few new passengers 
came aboard, and but one alighted. Conductor 
Morriss, making his way toward the front of the 
coach, hesitated beside the boy’s seat. The lad 
made no move. Still wrapt in reverie, unconscious 
Of the prolonged halt, he gazed vacantly yet wist- 
fully into the night. 

When a heavy hand was laid upon his shoulder 
he seemed to arouse himself with an effort, turn- 
ed quickly and found himself looking into the 
cheery face of the conductor. A startled, puzzle<l 
expression swept over his countenance, then gave 
way to a brave and warm little smile. 

‘'Well, sonny,” began the kindly man, “going to 
Greenshore, are you? To be sure you are. I re- 
member the ticket. Fine place too. Good school. 
Nice, gentlemanly boys. And such a man is Cap- 
tain Heywood, such a man.” With this he reached 
forward and gave one jerk to the whistle cord and 
15 


‘^SKEETER” McCOY 

the train slowly and obediently again got under 
way. 

‘'Are we far from Greenshore, sir?’' politely 
asked the boy, speaking for the first time. His 
whole manner showed plainly his appreciation of 
the man’s kindly interest and a warm glow leaped 
to his heart, kindling an interest in his surround- 
ings. 

“Two more stops,” answered the other, “not 
quite an hour’s run. The old hoss just loaded up 
with water back at Somerset and ought to whisk 
us there in a jiffy. You’ll soon have company. 
We usually pick up several Greenshore boys at 
both Rockford, our next stop, and Newcastle, fur- 
ther up the road. ’Twon’t take long to get ac- 
quainted. Come far, sonny?” 

“From Passaic, New Jersey, sir. I’m pretty tired, 
too.” Then softly, winking hard to keep the water 
back, “I’ve never traveled far alone, sir. Father 
fully intended to come on with me but was called 
away on official business at the last moment. He 
was very anxious that I start in on time and we 
thought that I could make the trip safely. Moth- 
er, you know, sir — ” 

“I know, sonny,” broke in the new-found friend 
tenderly, noting the brimming eyes of the boy. 

16 


THE “NEW guy;’ 

“Well, I am glad to have met you — He paused, 
realizing that he had not asked the lad’s name. 

“Charles McCoy, sir,” the boy made haste to 
say, grasping the meaning of the man’s hesita- 
tion. Then, proudly, “Charles Reynolds McCoy. 
But it has always been 'Skeeter’ McCoy with the 
fellows,” he added. 

“I hope to see more of you, ‘Skeeter,’ and I am 
sure you will like the Academy. Most of the 
young ’uns do. The Captain is — well there’s only 
one Captain, 'Skeeter.’ You’ll find that out.” 

“He must be a kind man, sir,” said “Skeeter.” 
“I know I shall like him. Father says that Cap- 
tain Heywood is a very intelligent and kind man.” 

“And a very good man,” added the conductor 
emphatically. “Well, here we are at Rockford,” 
he continued, glancing out of the window and at 
the same time giving three sharp pulls to the 
whistle cord. He held out his hand to “Skeeter.” 
‘“Good-bye, my boy. Keep up a stiff front and do 
your best to make your daddy back at home proud 
of you.” 

“I will, sir, and thank you sir,” said the boy, 
firmly gripping the conductor’s hand. 

“Rock — ford! All out for Rockford!” Con- 
ductor Morriss with a farewell and amiable wave 
17 


‘‘SKEETER” JMcCOY 

of the hand turned and made his way down the 
aisle and out upon the vestibule platform as the 
train slowed down and pulled into the station. 

‘‘Skeeter'* settled back in his seat with mingled 
and varied emotions. Some of his loneliness had 
taken flight since his chat with the trainman but, 
try as he might, yearning for home and father 
tugged insistently at his heart. The nine-hour 
journey, now nearly completed, seemed to have 
covered days of bleak and barren existence. Not 
that he desired to return home, for he did not. 
Long had he cherished the idea of going away to 
boarding school. And how earnestly had he 
searched, read and re-read every line of the many 
school catalogs for which his father had written ! 
After weeks of investigation, father and son had 
agreed that Greenshore Military Academy seemed 
to be the one school. And now he was nearly there ! 
He must brace up. Father would want him to 
be a man. Besides that, the fellows must not 
know — . He became aware for the first time that 
the train stood motionless in Rockford Station. 

With a series of quick movements, he arighted 
his cap, plucked at his tie and passed a hand over 
his forehead in a vain effort to control a couple 
of contrary locks. Then, with a queer fluttering 
18 


THE ‘‘NEW GUYr 

in his throat, he glanced backward down the aisle 
of the coach. 

Coming straight towards him were nearly a 
dozen rollicking and noisy boys. Some were in 
gray cadet uniforms while some were in civilian 
clothes. By the gilt-embroidered “G. M. on 
the uniform collars “Skeeter"’ knew them to be 
Greenshore boys. 

Flushed and expectant, he turned quickly 
around and nestled lower in his seat. Would 
they be friendly or would they sneer and hold 
themselves aloof? Were there any new boys like 
himself with the crowd ? “Skeeter"’ was filled with 
a desire to meet them and tell them that he, too, 
was to be a Greenshore cadet. 

As he huddled there, half yearning for their 
companionship and half timid of their scrutiniz- 
ing gazes, the excited youngsters crowded into 
.the vacant seats around “SkeeteF^ with much loud 
jesting and back-slapping and many jaunty and 
self-important poses. 

If “Skeeter,” through his one great failing of 
being self-conscious, feared that his fellow passen- 
gers behind him and across the way would im- 
mediately, make him the synosure of all eyes and 
the subject of their whispered gossip, he was mis- 
19 


‘‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

taken. They were evidently too much engrossed 
in their own affairs and plans to even be aware 
of his presence. 

Tortured by his own timidity, he pulled out his 
time-table and fixed his gaze upon it. On and on 
the gossip and laughter went. ‘"Skeeter,” sum- 
moning up courage, cast a quick glance across the 
way. Immediately he regretted his action. One 
large cadet in the act of raising a half-peeled ba- 
nana to his mouth, halted, and fixed a quizzical 
stare upon '‘Skeeter.” Noting their companion's 
silence, several other cadets followed the course 
of his gaze. Crimson and more miserable, ‘'Skeet- 
er" returned to a scrutiny of his schedule sheet. 
But no such freedom was to be allowed him. 

“Say, fellows, look what's alive. Only specimen 
still in existence. See it while you may. It's free, 
gentlemen, free." So sang out the cadet who had 
first spied our little friend in his misery. The 
crimson deepened and spread in “Skeeter's" 
cheeks. Back came that yearning for home. So 
these were the jolly fellows whom he had in his 
mind pictured the Greenshore boys to be ! 

“Cunning little child," broke in another rasping- 
ly, noting the effect of his friend's first shot. 
Then the tirade began in earnest. Pity it is that 
20 


THE *^NEW GUY.” 

these unthinking lads could not see and realize 
the cowardice of their act. However, shame 
though it is, school-boys from time immemorial 
have delighted in just such tactics. 

''Won't mama scold the nurse for allowing him 
to get out of sight.” 

"Father's pride on a pilgrimage.” 

"Isn't he the scream ?” 

"Glimp the big noise.” 

"Choke it, don't let it suffer.” 

How far this uncalled for abuse would have 
gone had not the heartless young rascals spied 
conductor Morriss making for them, is hard to 
say. The young mischief-makers had a wholesome 
fear of the last named individual for on several 
former and like occasion^ he had vented the fury 
of his exasperation upon them, leaving them trem- 
bling and chagrined. As he approached now, they 
appeared as innocent as lambs and carried on an 
animated conversation among themselves, dealing 
with live school topics. 

With a snort of disgust and a dark look by way 
of a warning, the conductor collected their tickets 
and turned to "Skeeter:” "Worst young men in 
the school, my boy,” he soothed, whisperingly. 
"And the only really Dad set. I should have told 
21 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

you of them. Never you mind, they will soon tuck 
away their plumage when Roy comes on at New- 
castle. Every last one of them. Yes, siree ! They 
know THAT boy!^' 

''Roy, sir V queried "Skeeter,” seeking to draw 
out his benefactor concerning the identity of this 
last personage of whom the man spoke with such 
respect and familiarity. 

"Yes, Roy Templeton, the real leader of the 
school. Splendid lad and popular except with this 
crowd behind and across from us. However, they 
keep pretty mum in his presence though they de- 
spise him like poison. He has put a crimp in too 
many of their wild plans and schemings. Temple- 
ton is Cadet Major and captain of the eleven and I 
think he also pitches fbr the nine. So you see, 
Greenshore boys think right well of him.” 

"I should think so,” said "Skeeter” in a voice 
filled with admiration for this idol of the school. 
"It must be fine to be so well thought of and to be 
worthy.” 

"You're right, sonny. When one is deserving, 
fame and popularity are slow to take flight, but a 
few weak, faltering steps and the mightiest man, 
like the most powerful of nations, begins to crum- 
ble and is pulled dovm by the very builder of his 
22 


THE ‘^NEW GUY/^ 

glory — the innate fickleness of man V* With these 
sound, if weighty, words. Conductor Morriss 
glanced at his watch, took his seat beside “Skeet- 
er,” and began to sort out his tickets into piles. 
Evidently he intended to protect his self-assumed 
charge from further annoyance from the giddy- 
headed youngsters from Rockford as long as pos- 
sible. 

He had seen many years of service on the N. S. 
and W. road and was very familiar with affairs at 
Greenshore Academy. He always had a pleasant 
word for the cadets who traveled back and forth 
with him and was a great supporter and champion 
of the school. Men, long since in business for 
themselves, were remembered by him as mischiev- 
ous school boys who took pleasure calling him 
“buttons,’^ plugging the water-cooler, and riding 
on the rear platform at the imminent peril of their 
young necks. He had never been known, except 
to “Skeeter's” recent tormentors, to carry, even 
when irritated by boyish pranks, and hilarity, more 
than a slight frown. This signal to desist was 
generally quickly detected by the guilty ones and 
their bubbling and healthy buoyancy was immedi- 
ately switched off into highly approved and, inci- 
dentally, safe channels. 


23 


‘^SKEETER^^ McCOY 

Conductor Morriss twisted a rubber band dex- 
terously about the last bundle of coupons and, 
with a smile of encouragement, was again off to- 
ward the rear of the coach. 

Encouraged and heartened by the prospect of 
Roy Templeton's entry at New Castle, ^'Skeeter" 
decided to fight off his feeling of loneliness and 
despondency and to disregard the biting words of 
his neighbors. He had fully expected to be hazed 
at Greenshore. This he had considered a part of 
a new cadet's life, but he had not dreamed of being 
humiliated before reaching the Academy. Quick- 
ly he remembered, however, the trainman's de- 
scription of the position held by these chaps in 
the school and his chin and mouth took on a set 
expression. 

‘'Oh, let them rave," he muttered to himself. 
With a half-shrug of his shoulders, he dismissed 
them from his mind — but for not long. 

“Oh say, you new guy," hailed a voice. “We'd 
like to have the pleasure of your channing pres- 
ence, don't you know. Come over here." The 
last was uttered in a tone of threatening com- 
mand, but “Skeeter's" only reply was a disdainful 
glance into which he put as much steel and fire as 
his enraged young personality could muster. 

24 


THE ‘‘NEW guy:* 


“Oh, ho V* This came from behind. “Stubborn, 
sassy little devil, huh?” ‘‘Say, fellers, shall we 
muss him up now or wait until we get to the 
Academy and chuck him under the showers ?” 

“Skeeter,” with flying pulse, felt that he had 
put his foot into it this time, but determined to 
stand his ground. 

“See here, you fresh kid, you’d better cut your 
foolishness and listen to us. You’re a new-guy, 
and new-guys are mere zeros at Greenshore. Your 
one duty is to be humble and respectful to your 
superiors, the upperclassmen. Now, have you got 
me ?” “Hunch” Willis leaned far over the back of 
“Skeeter’s” seat with his hand laid roughly on the 
boy’s shoulder, waiting for the new-guy’s answer. 
It came immediate, decisive and electrical in ef- 
fect : “I got you before you drove up. I’ve listen- 
ed to you, against my will, since we left Rockford. 
I’m a new-guy, but no zero. I shall be humble and 
respectful to those who deserve it. Kindly remove 
your hand from my shoulder.” 

With a growl of rage Willis jumped around to 
“Skeeter’s” side, grasped the boy’s wrist with one 
hand and with the other insolently brushed his cap 
off onto the floor at their feet. “Here, enough of 
25 


‘‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

this,” he fairly screamed, **you subside and keep 
a civil tongue in your head.” 

“Oh, I say, ‘Hunch,' ” drawled a chubbily built 
lad, whom “Skeeter” remembered having heard 
called “Shad,” and who had not before mixed in 
the affair to any extent, “let the kid alone. Old 
‘buttons' will be down on us in a minute.” 

Some of the other cadets who were really not 
evil fellows at heart, but who owed their bad 
name rather to company than to record, also called 
to the bully to desist. “Boss” Minot and “Ring” 
Tyree, seated opposite to “Skeeter,” were evident- 
ly cronies of Willis. They were quickly at his side, 
hard smiles of amusement and approbation cover- 
ing their faces. 

“Hunch” gave another sharp twist to 
“Skeeter's” wrist which all but wrung a cry from 
the unfortunate little lad, then glared defiantly at 
the boy who had spoken for “Skeeter.” 

“You close your face, ‘Shad' Thomas,” he hiss- 
ed uglily, “This is my affair.” 

“And mine!” The two words were spoken in a 
voice which rang as clear as the crack of a whip. 
“Skeeter” was surprised to feel himself free from 
the iron grip of “Hunch” Willis and to note with 
what haste his two cowardly companions glided to 
26 


THE ^^NEW GVYr 

their seats. ^‘Hunch,” be it said in his favor, with 
face distorted with venomous hate, turned and 
faced the speaker. 

So busy had ‘'Skeeter,'' ''Hunch'" Willis and his 
crowd been with transpiring events, that they had 
failed to notice that the train had stopped at New- 
castle and was again under way. The newcomer, 
a handsome, dark-eyed lad of perhaps twenty, and 
several companions had entered the front door 
of the coach unobserved and were standing in the 
aisle directly in front of the new boy. 

For several seconds the silence was nearly op- 
pressive as the two cadets glared at one another. 
The muscles in Willis' face twitched convulsively 
and a dark and vengeful light shone from his eyes. 

"Your affair, is it, you conceited lobster," he 
snarled. "Again you desire to assume the role of 
a hero, gather the young and tender under your 
protecting wing and turn to accept the plaudits of 
the crowd. But let me tell you, Roy Templeton, 
your day of power at Greenshore is passed. We're 
out to get you this term, and get you we will !" 

"Willis," began Roy, with face white with anger, 
and eyes which seemed to be ready to burst into 
flame, "this is no place for a quarrel. As to your 
threats concerning myself, experience should have 
27 


“SKEETER^^ McCOY 

long since taught you of my absolute indifference 
to them, but I warn you to keep your bullying 
hands off this lad. That’s all.” 

^'Oh, you martyr! You mock hero! You — !” 

‘"Stop!” Templeton, turned with clinched and 
uplifted fists at these insulting words from *‘Boss” 
Minot. 

''Never mind, Roy. Steady, boy.” Conductor 
Morriss, entering quickly from a rear coach, had 
taken in the situation at a glance. Gently he re- 
strained his excited young friend. "They are not 
worth it, boy.” Then savagely at the scattering 
hazers: "Clear out of this car. Go to the rear 
coach and keep quiet or off you go !” 

The conductor had two clear causes for his 
anger. Anything savoring of bullying thorough- 
ly and quickly aroused him. Then again, he was 
chagrined at the thought that his passengers had 
been disturbed again by Willis and his company. 
The great majority of them were known all along 
the line as young ruffians and a disgrace to Green- 
shore. 

As he pictured many past clashes with these 
reckless boys. Conductor Morriss’ anger increased 
and he decided to hurry back to the rear coach, 
bent upon delivering a stem reprimand. 

28 


THE ‘‘NEW GUY/' 


“Take care of ‘Skeeter,' Roy/' he sang out. 
“The poor little fellow has been sorely tried." He 
stopped a moment to pacify an old gentleman in 
spectacles who seemed highly indignant at the 
whole affair but who smiled and chuckled to him- 
self as the explanation was given him. 

Roy took his seat beside the new boy. He im- 
mediately learned “Skeeter's" name and introduc- 
ed him to his friends, Jack Snowden, Harry Lewis 
and “Buzz" Cohill. They listened attentively to 
“Skeeter's" account of his trouble with the hazers. 

“Same crooked bunch," snorted “Buzz" Cohill, 
a chubby lad with full and freckled face. 

“The nerve of it, though. Here on the train be- 
fore the passengers and all. I tell you, Roy, we 
have our work cut out for us this year." 

“Yes, I believe we have. Jack," answered Roy, 
thoughtfully. “We will have to keep our eyes open 
for sure. These fellows dare not make an open 
break. All of their work will be under the sur- 
face, for I think that they realize that Captain 
Heywood's patience has been nearly exhausted." 

“Certainly is a pity someone cannot get ‘Shad' 
Thomas and a couple more of those fellows to see 
their mistake. There's some hope yet for them," 
spoke up Harry Lewis. 

29 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

To this all the boys agreed. They hoped that 
the near future would see “Hunch’^ Willis, “Boss"' 
Minot and “Ring’" Tyree standing alone in their 
cowardice and shame. 

‘‘McCoy, do you know what room you are to 
occupy at the Academy?'^ Roy again turned his 
attention to “Skeeter.'' 

“Yes, sir. Captain Hey wood wrote father that 
he would place me on the second floor of Lanier 
Hall. I forgot the number of the room.^’ 

“That’s good,” said Roy, warmly. “My friends 
and myself are all in Lanier, but are on the third 
floor. I’m glad you are to be near us, ‘Skeeter,’ 
and I hope we shall have some jolly good times 
together.” 

“Thank you, I know we will,” replied the new 
boy, beaming and grateful. 

“You’ll find plenty of little fellows around you 
for company, too,” added “Buzz.” “Jack, here, 
has a kid brother on the second floor. Maybe the 
Captain will put you two together. I’ll ask him, 
if you wish.” 

“By all means, sir. Then I’d feel as if I were 
getting settled. Do you think Captain Heywood 
will allow it?” 

“We’ll see, at any rate,” promised “Buzz.” 

30 


THE ‘^NEW GVYr 

‘"Green — shore ! All out for the Academy 

The boys hastily gathered up their grips and 
made for the door. As they alighted, after a 
hearty hand-shake with Conductor Morriss, they 
were assailed on every hand by liverymen and 
hack-drivers. “Going to the Academy, gents? 
Step this way. Fifty cents, baggage and all.” 

Koy stood still in the midst of the confusion 
caused by the bargaining and bantering cabbies, 
seemingly looking for someone. 

“Here we are, Joe,” he suddenly called as a 
stout, red-faced little man made his way through 
the crowd upon the station platform. 

“Glad to see yer, boss. 'Spected you on the 
early train but been here ever since. Hop in, 
gents.” 

As the boys piled into the spacious vehicle, 
they noticed Willis and his companions in a heat- 
ed argument with a “cabby.” Evidently there was 
a difference of opinion as to charge for fare. 

Driver Joe climbed to his seat and with a merry 
“giddap,” and an ominous crack of the whip, they 
rumbled over the crossing and rolled up the long, 
winding hill towards the Academy. 


31 


CHAPTER II. 


The Enemy Strikes 

T he first week of the term at Greenshore 
proved to be one of joint pleasure and work 
for ‘‘Skeeter" McCoy. Captain Heywood 
had granted ‘‘Buzz” Cohiirs request that “Skeet- 
er” be allowed to room with “Whitey” Snowden, 
Jack's young brother, and the two had gone along 
swimmingly. In fact, “Skeeter” was positive 
that he had never seen so amiable and comical a 
chap in all his life as was “Whitey.” 

Both were in the same form, sat at the same 
table in the large Academy mess-hall, roomed to- 
gether, worked together and played together. It 
was no wonder then that they became known 
among the cadets as the “inseparable twins.” 

“Whitey” was an “old guy,” but this fact did 
not weaken his strong friendship for “Skeeter” 
a whit. True it is that “Skeeter” had received his 
full share of innocent hazing and, at “Whitey's” 
urgent advice, had “taken it like a man.” “Whit- 
ey” had always managed to be absent upon the 
32 


THE ENEMY STRIKES, 
occasion of the masked visit and he never joined 
in the ‘‘subduing*' of “Skeeter.” Upon one or two 
occasions he had sought to spare his room-mate. 
“He's a fine chap, fellows," he would say, “and 
not a bit fresh. Let's call on that pie-faced Cum- 
mings." 

Generally, his advice was not heeded, however, 
and “Skeeter" was forced to demonstrate his su- 
periority as a singer and clog-dancer and his un- 
dying devotion as a suitor of the moon. But he 
took it all good-naturedly and was deeply grate- 
ful to “Whitey" for whatever leniency the latter's 
efforts drew his way. Tiring of “taming" so 
humble and obedient a subject, “Skeeter's" class 
mates voted him a “brick" and went in search of 
more interesting material for their pranks. 

It was a custom at Greenshore that each form 
should confine its hazing activities to its own mem- 
bers. Therefore, to date “Skeeter" had received no 
further molestation from “Hunch" Willis' set. In 
fact, he had seen but little of them, so busy was 
he with his work and the doings of his own form. 
He felt, however, that the bully would not hesti- 
tate, once the opportunity to make him suffer, 
should offer itself. Nor was he deceived. 

One night in October, long after “taps," a bud 
83 


“SKEETER^^ McCOY 

vibrant clanging of the lire bell on the second floor 
of Lanier Hall caused ‘‘Skeeter'" and ‘‘Whitey*’ to 
jump from their beds and race into the corridor, 
their hearts beating wildly. From every door and 
landing cadets were making a wild rush for the 
stairs. Professors, scantily clad, and with drawn 
faces, ran here and there awakening those who 
still slept. All was confusion and excitement. Some 
of the more level-headed of the cadets endeavored 
to preserve order and get the frenzied boys out of 
the building quickly and with at least a semblance 
of discipline. But most of the boys of Lanier Hall 
were freshmen and knew nothing of Are drills and 
how they should deport themselves. To them, 
this occasion called for but one thing — to get out 
with all possible speed. 

Once outside in the cool night air, some of the 
terror left the cadets and they looked foolishly 
about, wondering what all the excitement v/as 
about. No fire was to be seen. 

“Where's the fire?" 

“What's wrong?" 

“False alarm!" 

“Oh, it's only a joke." 

“Gee, but it's cold. Me for the bed." 

These were some of the tremulous queries and 
34 


THE ENEMY STRIKES, 
exclamations heard about the main entrance. 

To add to the confusion cadets and professors 
from the south barracks came running upon the 
scene, panting out varied, and, in some cases, un- 
intelligible queries. In a few moments the entire 
campus and parade ground, resplendent in the 
moonlight, were covered with running, screaming 
figures. 

‘Tire!” “Fire!” The terrible cry was taken up 
and flung from lip to lip. 

“Skeeter” and “Whitey” stood on the outskirts 
of the wondering and sleepy crowd, shivering. 

“Storm's abrewing,” half whispered, half chat- 
tered “Whitey.” 

“How's that? What storm?” asked “Skeeter,” 
also in a whisper. 

“Wait till the Cap—.” 

“Battalion Attention !” Captain Heywood, 
though breathless from running, rolled out the 
command as only he could. Every cadet's heels 
came together and every voice was hushed. The 
storm had broken. 

“Cadet Captains will form their companies in 
the first corridor as rapidly as possible. Dismiss- 
ed I” The owner of the school, with stately stride, 
passed into the building. 

35 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

‘‘A Company, fall in!” ‘'B Company, fall in!” 
Quickly the lines were formed and the rolls called. 

‘‘Major Templeton, what is your report sir?” 
Captain Heywood peered about the dimly lighted 
corndor. No answer came to his query. 

The Commandant^s jaws came together with an 
audible snap. “Adjutant, make your report!” 

“All present or accounted for, sir.” 

“Has anyone seen Cadet Major Templeton?” 
Captain Hey wood's voice showed plainly his irri- 
tation. 

“I repeat, has anyone seen Cadet Major Temple- 
ton?” This time the question was asked in the 
form of an interrogatory command, and with ris- 
ing vok e. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Who is it speaking?” 

“Cadet McCoy, sir.” 

“Kindly tell me where you last saw him, Mc- 
Coy.” 

“Standing beneath the bell over by the landing 
sir.” 

This astounding statement caused many cadets 
to utter low whistles of surprise, despite the fact 
that they were at attention. 

36 


THE ENEMY STRIKES. 

‘‘Silence! Now, McCoy, are you sure of this?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“That will do. Retire to your respective rooms. 
The Officer of the Day will find Cadet Templeton 
and have him report immediately to my office. 
McCoy, fall out and join me there, sir. First 
Sergeants, dismiss your companies.” 

With a rush, the majority of the lads made a 
dash for their quarters. A few, however, gather- 
ed in groups of twos and threes and became en- 
gaged in earnest conversation and there was ap- 
parently but one topic discussed. 

“Skeeter,” hurrying after Captain Heywood, 
was quick to detect the silence among the differ- 
ent groups as he passed and the frowns and 
frigid looks thrown after him. He realized the 
reason and flushed a livid red at the injustice of 
his companions' accusing glances. 

Captain Heywood was waiting for him in the 
office. The Commandant's face, usually so kind, 
bore a set expression. He was seated by his desk 
and his piercing blue eyes sparkled dangerously 
in the glare of the electric drop-light. 

“Skeeter” came reluctantly forward and stood 
at attention. For a full minute the Captain sat 
motionless, then, glancing up into the troubled 
37 


‘^SKEETER^^ McCOY 

face of his young cadet, he began speaking in a 
quiet, gentle tone: 

“My boy, what do you know about tonight's 
commotion? Start’ from the beginning.” The 
man caught up a paper cutter from his desk and 
began fingering it nervously as he awaited Mc- 
Coy’s reply. 

“Nothing, sir,” began “Skeeter,” “except what 
I have told you.” 

Again the man focused steady, searching eyes 
upon the speaker. “Are you positive that the 
cadet you saw under the bell was Major Temple- 
ton?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“How did you happen to notice him standing 
there in the darkness of the corridor?” 

“He called to me, sir.” The boy’s lips trembled 
as he spoke. 

“What did he say to you? Or did you stop to 
find out what was wanted?” 

“He told me not to be frightened and that he 
would see me later.” 

“Nothing else?” 

“Nothing, sir.” 

“Did Major Templeton remain in the hall?” 

“I left him standing there, sir.” A look almost 
38 


THE ENEMY STRIKES, 
of pleading had sprung into the lad's eyes and he 
blurted out suddenly: ‘Tlease, Captain Hey wood, 
I am sure that Major Templeton did not ring the 
bell. He is too 

‘That will do, sir. I only desire your testimony, 
not your opinion," Captain Heywood cut in quick- 
ly. 

“Pardon me, sir.” 

“Now, McCoy,” began the commandant, after a 
few minutes of thought, “you have, I trust, spoken 
truthfully to me. I cannot in any way understand 
Major Templeton's absence tonight, especially in 
view of the damaging evidence against him as 
given by you. However, I shall not pass judg- 
ment until I am sure of the facts in the case. The 
ringing of the fire-bell is a most serious offense. 
That will do, sir. Good-night, McCoy.” 

“Good-night, sir.” “Skeeter” saluted, about- 
faced and walked from the office Once outside in 
the quiet corridor he had to fight manfully to 
keep the rush of tears back. What had he done? 
By thoughtlessly speaking out when he could 
have remained silent he had brought trouble 
down upon the head of one who had befriended 
him upon many an occasion. The leader of the 
school was in serious trouble, and by his words. 

39 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

The thought stunned him completely. He pictur- 
ed terrible things happening to his idol and bene- 
factor. Roy might be dismissed from Greenshore 
and disgraced. And he was the cause. Then in 
his over-wrought brain he began to form a de- 
fense for his action and he felt quieter as he ap- 
proached his own door. Was he not compelled by 
his honor to answer the Captain's query? Would 
not remaining silent have been but acting a lie? 
Besides, he had not gleaned the true meaning of 
Captain Heywood's inquiry as to the whereabouts 
of Roy. Being questioned, suddenly he remem- 
bered having seen and talked to Roy and he told 
the Commandant as much, nothing more. 

This latter thought, however, failed to give him 
much comfort for he realized that others, too, had 
seen Roy and had remained silent. Oh, how 
easily he could have escaped this whole miserable 
occurrence. But, could he? The miserable boy 
gave up his last straw and decided in the negative. 
His honor had demanded speech, and honor to 
“Skeeter” was a heritage. 

Upon reaching his room ‘‘Skeeter" tip-toed 
about noiselessly as he undressed. He did not 
wish to awaken *'Whitey” and meet his accusing 
eyes. A very miserable little boy, with flushed 
40 


THE ENEMY STRIKES, 
face and throbbing brain, drew the sheets about 
him and pondered and tossed about until the wee 
hours of the morning. 

In the meantime events were happening thick 
and fast. Captain Heywood's strong, relentless 
disciplinarian hand had reached forth into the 
night and located the missing cadet major. He 
was found by the night sentinel doing duty at the 
far end of the campus, near the main entrance. 
This reluctant young officer testified that he had 
spied a figure creeping along the gymnasium wall 
between half -past one and two o'clock. Upon 
challenging the unknown, he was surprised to 
find Roy Templeton before him. 

What took place in Captain Heywood's office, 
following Templeton's arrest and forced appear- 
ance at Headquarters, can be told in a few words. 
In answering to the charge of breaking barracks 
Roy had simply pleaded guilty. This offence, while 
severely punished, was not of such a serious nature 
as that of ringing the fire-bell, and Captain Hey- 
wood was just about to pass on to inquiries as to 
Roy's knowledge of this latter breach of dis- 
cipline when the searching eyes of the Command- 
ant spied the end of an insulated wire protruding 
41 


‘^EETER^^ McCOY 

from the cadet's overcoat pocket. Roy was com- 
manded to empty his pocket, and before the eyes of 
the amazed owner of the school was laid a coil of 
call-bell wire, a push button, a dry battery, and 
several wiring staples. 

“Templeton, what does this mean?” Demanded 
Captain Heywood in a hard voice. “Please be 
so kind as to explain the presence of this outfit in 
your pocket. Where did you get these articles ?” 

“I found them, sir.” 

“Did you rig up this contrivance and attach it 
to the bell tonight ?” 

“No, sir. I know nothing of the ringing of the 
bell, sir. I only know that I found these things in 
the corridor tonight.” 

“When did you find them?” 

“Just before the bell rang.” 

“Did it occur to you Templeton, that such a 
statement sounds hollow and impossible to the ex- 
treme? For instance, the bell is connected with 
a push button in this office by wires laid in the 
partition walls of the building. This is the only 
wire connected with the gong. The gong can only 
be sounded by means of an electrical current. You 
found this wire in the corridor, yet you found it 
just before the gong sounded. I have carefully 
42 


THE ENEMY STRIKES, 
searched the entire building for wires a few 
minutes before you came here tonight. There 
were no such wires. Therefore the only way the 
bell could have been rung was either by means of 
those wires just given me by you or by the push- 
ing of the button here in my office. The latter 
was impossible as the office door and windows 
were locked. The former, unless performed by 
you, was impossible, because you found the wires 
before the gong sounded. The entire statement 
is ridiculous, Templeton, ridiculous.” 

‘T cannot help it, sir. It is the truth.” 

‘‘Templeton, you have been here four years this 
coming June and your record has been a cause of 
pride to us. We have respected and honored you 
as a splendid specimen of young man. Be careful, 
my boy. Stop a bad matter before it goes too far. 
We have all played pranks. Now, let's have the 
full story. You will suffer heavy punishment, but 
your record for honor will be clean. What say 
you, my boy?” The man paused, a mixture of paip, 
anxiety and eagerness covering his handsome 
countenance. 

“I have told the truth. Captain. I have nothing 
further to say.” 


43 


“SKEETER” McCOY 

‘‘Very well, sir. You may go to your room and 
consider yourself under arrest until further 
notice. Your case will be passed upon before 
morning. I am grieved at your conduct, sir. That 
is all. Good-night, Templeton.” 

“Good-night, Captain Heywood.” And Roy de- 
parted side by side with the silent and serious- 
faced sentinel of the night. 

At first mess formation in the morning the 
cadet battalion was shocked by the following 
special order: 

“On account of willfully breaking barracks, 
ringing the fire-gong and evading the truth. Cadet 
Major Roy Templeton is hereby reduced to the 
ranks and placed upon bounds until further 
notice. 

By order: CAPTAIN HEYWOOD, 

Commandant.” 

At least four hearts in that boyish battalion 
beat with joyful rhythm as the fateful words rang 
out upon the morning air. But the school as a 
whole caught its breath in gasps and stood mutely 
dumb after witnessing the crumbling of its idol. 
Silent, sad, loyal it stood, broke into squads, 
wheeled and marched into the mess hall. 

44 


THE ENEMY STRIKES. 

Crushed by the words, the echo of which still 
roared in his ears, feeling helpless and friendless 
in his agony, with only his conscience to comfort 
him, a little light-haired private with large, hon- 
est blue eyes, shuffled limply into his chair. 


45 


CHAPTER III. 


Shunned. 


✓ 

O N Wednesday afternoon, fully a week after 
the reduction and public disgrace of Tem- 
pleton and after the furor caused thereby 
had somewhat died down, little McCoy made his 
way from the junior recitation hall over to the 
main athletic field. 

Foot ball practice was in full blast and a large 
number of cadets, from both the junior and upper 
schools, had congregated upon the velvety green 
slope, to the left of the gridiron. Interest in the 
success and welfare of the ‘varsity eleven was at 
fever heat and big and little boys alike watched 
daily the efforts of Coach Dyer to whip together 
a winning combination from the none-too-proniis- 
ing material on hand. 

Graduation had robbed the “Big G” of several 
dependable veterans and “Plush,'' as the boys af- 
fectionately designated the coach on account of 
his easy manner of speaking, even when exasper- 
46 


SHUNNED. 

ated, had found few men of might among the in- 
coming freshman class. 

On this particular afternoon, affairs were mov- 
ing anything but smoothly on the field. ‘Tlush,” 
in a solid white sweater, on which could be seen a 
faded and tattered crimson was darting back 
and forth, apparently in a frenzy of excitement 
and anger. Nothing seemed to suit him Now he 
stands with squared jaw, watching the perspiring 
machine run through signals. Always the inevi- 
table and anxious group of blanketed substitutes 
are at his heels. Out comes a grimy young giant 
from one of the guard positions. In goes a small- 
er, but quicker and faster man, determination 
written upon his countenance. An end drops out 
and starts upon his one-lap journey over the cin- 
der path. A “sub” eagerly jumps into the vacant 
position. 

No word seems to come from the coach — no bit- 
ing sarcasm — no merciless goading — ^no stinging 
ridicule — ^just a darting, gesticulating automaton, 
whose every move seems to add inspiration and 
impetus to the machine of which he is the helm. 

Now the signal drill ceases. Several players 
stagger into high-necked sweaters and are off to- 
wards the gymnasium. A group of four move off 
47 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

down the field while two young warriors remain 
in mid-field with the coach. One is Roy Temple- 
ton. 

‘Tlush” may be seen to speak to him. The 'Var- 
sity captain answers with a nod — ^poises the ball 
in his hands and — ^Pluck! A beautiful spiral re- 
volves its way high into the air — soars on and on 
— and finally falls with a swift and zig-zag move- 
ment into the waiting arms of ^^Buzz” Cohill, 'Var- 
sity quarter. 

A roar goes up from the watching cadets. 

“That-a-boy, Roy." 

*'Same old Capt." 

‘‘Some punt." 

I “Even got brains in his feet." 

■ "Good-night, Fairfield." 

It is evident that Greenshore boys still cling 
lovingly to this idol — an idol now in disgrace at 
Headquarters but — and this thought had more 
weight with youthful minds than any amount of 
faculty investigations — an idol whose brawn, 
brain, and courage had upon occasions too num- 
erous to mention, laid the laurel wreath of the 
victor upon the folds of the Blue and White. 

Seated on the grass at a distance from the ap- 
plauding bunch of youngsters, “Skeeter" hungrily 
48 


SHUNNED. 

watched every move of the popular player on the 
field before him. A wistful longing shone from 
his eyes. How proud he was of the prowess of his 
hero ! How he longed to run upon the field and 
shake Roy^s hand ! 

The punting practice went on until the shadows 
began to creep out upon the chalk-marked field. 
Gradually, one by one or in little groups, the ca- 
dets on the slope wended their way towards the 
barracks. Laughter and joshing floated over the 
campus. From an opeh window of the north bar- 
racks came the mellow notes of a guitar. The 
peaceful calm and wholesome spirit of the har- 
mony and friendship, which made Greenshore so 
dear to her sons, seemed to lurk in every nook of 
the campus. 

The lingering sweetness of this October twi- 
light had any but a soothing effect upon our little 
friend upon the slope. It pierced him as so much 
molten lead. Fight as he would, a feeling of des- 
pair and melancholia took possession of him, 
numbing his emotions and choking back the joy- 
ous warble which one friendly nod would have re- 
leased from his dry little throat. 

There was no doubt about it— “Skeeter” McCoy 
was shunned. The Greenshore spirit relished 
49 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

nothing which savored of ‘‘snitching” and McCoy, 
innocent at heart, as he was, had earned the hated 
cognomen. Even his chum, “Whitey,” appeared 
to have lost a lot of his humor and was cool and re- 
tiring, though “Skeeter” had to acknowledge that 
his recent chum was as courteous and kind as 
ever. 

Hard indeed would it be for us to follow the 
thoughts of this little sufferer as he sat, head in 
hands, upon the Academy slope. A passerby, 
peering into the increasing darkness, could have 
detected moisture trickling down the plump little 
cheeks and a far-a-way look in the sky-blue eyes. 

Out upon the keen evening air vibrated the 
clear notes of “Call to Quarters.” With a guilty 
start, “Skeeter” arose and glanced towards the 
field. It was deserted. Quickly the boy turned 
and sped towards the barracks. 

He had not dreamed it was so late! Attention 
would be sounded in three minutes and he would 
be marked absent by the 0. D. “In Dutch again,” 
he murmured to himself as his stout little legs 
fairly twinkled over the turf. Around the corner 
of the laundry he tore, dodged the flag-staff, dodg- 
ed to the wrong side, forgot the Crash! He 

felt himself slipping, falling, falling, falling into 
50 


SHUNNED. 

space. Myriads of little star-faced demons grin- 
ned at him as he passed downward. A strand of 
insulated wires seemed to run parallel to his body 
as it shot into space. He grasped for it with both 
hands but it dangled beyond his reach. An aero- 
plane glided towards him, a huge vulture, the whir 
of its propeller sounded like the roar of a locomo- 
tive and the exhaust of its engine fairly shatter- 
ing his ear-drums. Who was that in the helms- 
man's seat? ''Hunch" Willis without a doubt. 
"Skeeter" felt a vague regret at this. How did he 
get there ? Why did he not turn the course of the 
machine ? He tried to cry out but the roar of the 
flying machine drowned the sound of his voice. 
His downward flight stopped. He stood upright, 
unsupported, in mid-air, and the flying monster 
was upon him. 

A great, overwhelming dizziness and wave of 
nausea came over him. He turned his face away 
and the muscles of his body grew taut, ready for 
the shock. 

Coach Dyer and Roy, hurrying to the barracks 
from the gymnasium, found him there, bruised, 
bleeding and unconscious, beside the wheels of the 
giant iron Reveille gun. 

51 


‘^SKEETER” McCOY 

''My God, Coach! Look here!” cried Templeton 
as he came upon the prostrate little figure, twitch- 
ing convulsively at his feet. "It’s the young ’un,” 
he said, brokenly, as he peered closer into the lit- 
tle crimson-streaked, upturned face. 

"To the infirmary, quick. No time to lose!” 

Roy needed no second call. Tenderly but quick- 
ly he lifted the injured boy and started on a run 
for the school hospital, "Plusn, ^ white and drawn, 
at his side. 

"Poor little chap, poor little chap,” murmured 
Roy as he dashed along. From the eyes of this 
strong, manly young fellow, Templeton, ’Varsity 
captain, the water fiowed unchecked. 

" 'Skeeter,’ ” he whispered with a half-sob, 
" 'Skeeter,’ it’s Roy. Speak to me, little pal.” And 
when no answer came he pressed his burden 
tighter to his breast and dashed madly on across 
the campus, up the steps of the Academic build- 
ing, through the brilliantly lighted corridor, scat- 
tering astonished groups of cadets to the right 
and left. "Plush,” some distance behind, cut to 
the left and began ringing the school ’phone furi- 
ously. The Academy physician lived just beyond 
"bounds” but "Plush” was fighting for minutes. 

52 


SHUNNED. 

Never once did Templeton stop until he had 
passed out the north entrance, around the mess- 
hall and came panting and staggering to the door 
of the' infirmary! 

‘"Mother” Hardy, the aged and benevolent head 
nurse, answered his frantic pounding, and togeth- 
er they placed “Skeeter” on a soft little white cot. 

The kind old lady, loved by everyone at Green- 
shore, realized at a glance the seriousness of the 
case and lost not a second in preparing for the ar- 
rival of the doctor. 

Roy, after laying the unconscious boy on the 
cot, never moved from his tracks. Silent he stood, 
his massive shoulders drooped and his face tom 
with emotion. In his large, tanned hand, a little 
white one rested. 

Presently, very quietly, and with a movement as 
gentle as that of a mother, he dropped down upon 
one knee and laid his arm across the little fellow's 
chest. 

“Mother,” hurrying back with a bowl of steriliz- 
ed water, stopped and gazed upon the scene. 

“Sweet,” she whispered to herself ana passed 
on to the edge of the cot. Patting Roy on the back 
in a motherly fashion, she requested his aid. 

He marveled as she worked — deftly, rapidly. 

53 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

The long, jagged cut on the scalp was cleansed and 
temporarily bound together with adhesive plaster. 
The bruised forehead and gashed cheek were soon 
swathed in bandages. Then she paused and turn- 
ed to Templeton. 

'T do wish Dr. Shirley would come,” she fretted. 
‘T've done my best to arouse him.” 

*Ts it serious?” asked Roy, and his voice was 
hardly above a whisper. 

'T cannot tell, dear. I trust not. Pulse is good. 
How did it happen?” 

“Ran into the cannon. Must have been late to 
'quarters.' I saw him on the slope a few minutes 
before the call sounded. 'Plush' had me kicking 
and he — the lad — watched after the others had 
left.” 

“Poor little darling. Seemed such an attractive 
child. His father must be notified. You were 
fond of him, Mr. Templeton?” “Mother” always 
spoke in jumbles when she was under a strain. 

“Yes, very. But he does not know it, 'Mother.' 
You know the fellows — ” 

“Yes.” The nurse interrupted him, as if anxi- 
ous to avoid giving him pain. 

“Weil,” continued Roy, 'Skeeter' naturally 
thought that I held the same view, but I did not, 
54 


SHUNNED. 

and have tried to explain to the others. I have 
seen the youngster but once since the affair occur- 
red, and that was this afternoon. I should have 
told him it was all right long ago, and meant to, 
but now — now it's too late." And Roy buried his 
face in his hands. 

"'Oh, I trust — ^but here's the Doctor." 

Roy glanced toward the door. Dr. Shirley, case 
in hand, was approaching rapidly, followed by 
Captain Heywood and *Tlush." Long after did 
Roy remember the look of anguish on the Com- 
mandant's face, as he looked down upon the little 
figure on the cot. 

The physician nodded seriously to Mrs. Hardy 
and Roy, and began a hurried examination. A few 
low, crisp orders were spoken, and Captain Hey- 
wood turned to Roy. 

‘‘Go to your supper, my boy," he said. 

“Yes, sir." With a final look at the cot, and an 
appealing glance at the doctor, Roy turned and 
walked slowly out into the night. 

He found that the news had spread over the en- 
tire school by the time he reached the mess-hall. 
Questions were hurled at him by both instructors 
and cadets. Roy answered them as best he could 
and a hush fell over the hall. 

55 


“SKEETER” McCOY 

In time of trouble and sorrow boyish difficulties 
and “clicks” are forgotten, and especially was this 
true at Greenshore. Though a few hours before 
they spurned “Skeeter” as a “snitcher,” now that 
he lay injured and unconscious, they remembered 
only that he was a Greenshore boy, that he was 
sailing under the colors of the Dark Blue and 
White, and compassion and sympathy proved 
masters of hatred and prejudice. Yet, even with 
this situation in the school, two h'a.rrts within its 
walls defied the advance of better impulse and re- 
mained as hard as alabaster. 

Reports came hourly from the sick room but at 
“Taps” the same depressing bulletin was heralded 
by the 0. D. — “Condition Unchanged.” At the 
last note of this prettiest of bugle calls, the dormi- 
tories became dark and quiet, but many a head 
tossed restlessly upon the pillow before refreshing 
sleep, long denied, lifted for a few hours this bur- 
den from the boyish minds and hearts. 

Beside a bed in Lanier Hall, with the full Octo- 
ber moon shafting through the curtained windows 
and flooding his broad shoulders and handsome, 
upturned face, a young man knelt, knelt until the 
wee hours of the morning, imploring the one in- 
fallible Physician to abide with his little pal 
through the conflict of the night. 


CHAPTER IV. 


In The Valley of The Shadow. 

A t the first faint streaks of dawn Roy awak- 
ened with a start, conscious of a feeling of 
impending disaster. As he sat up in bed, 
rubbing his eyes, his brain began to clear. The 
events of the preceding night came back to him 
with a rush. 

Leaving his bed and stepping to the window, he 
pulled the curtains aside and gazed upon the 
dreary aspect without. How different appeared 
the familiar objects and views upon which he had 
looked each morning for three long, happy years ! 
He felt minus that feeling of joy and exhilaration 
which had possessed him many times in the past 
when he had watched the rising sun shed its en- 
hancing rays over the already beautiful drives, 
trees and towers of slumbering and tranquil old 
Greenshore. 

His gaze rested for an instant on the sombre 
walls of the gymnasium, massive and gray under 
the clouded sky, on to the track-encircled athletic 
57 


^‘SKEETER’’ McCOY 

field and its nearby slope, back again to the acad- 
emic building — swung to the right and became fix- 
ed upon the gently swaying staff and the dark 
mass at its base which appeared shapeless but 
huge in the uncertain morning light. 

With a shudder he turned from the window and 
jerked on the electric light. He passed his hand 
over his forehead and was surprised to find beads 
of perspiration there. He felt weak and ill and 
realized that he was trembling from head to foot. 

Quickly he dressed, and mechanically, for his 
mind v/as fascinated and absorbed with the pic- 
tures seared there. A little boy, lone upon the 
slope — an iron-mounted monster, standing senti- 
nel over its quivering little victim, a narrow white 
cot — the same face in each instance standing out 
in bold relief — the same, yet transformed succes- 
sively by Despair — Agony — Oblivion. Craftily, 
another slide edged its way in. The same face ap- 
peared, white, still, oblivious. The cot was there 
— a mere reproduction of the last — no. Near the 
head of the cot a sinister figure stood — thin, filmy, 
ethereal, a wavy black mesh hanging loosely over 
the gaunt frame and bony, extended arm. The 
first finger of its grayish white hand, pointed to- 
ward the little still face — ^was beckoning — ^beck — . 

58 


IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 

‘‘No!” Templeton sprang from the side of his 
bed, leaving his shoe half tied. The sound of his 
own frantic, spasmodic scream in the quiet of his 
room had startled and shocked him. His nerves 
were shattered and his knees shook. It took 
several moments to bring him back to the truth of 
things. He realized that his hands had been work- 
ing feverishly at his clothes while his mind was 
being tortured by the reason-robbing film. 

“It cannot be. It must not be. ‘Skeeter,' I 
need you,” he murmured as he dashed on a sweat- 
er. “It cannot be. God, don’t let it be. Keep my 
little friend for me.” 

Almost in a dream he found himself hurrying 
along the cold corridor. No one was yet astir. He 
pushed along through the semi-darkness, turned 
the “L” and came to the huge hall window on the 
west side of the building. A faint light shone 
from the infirmary. Its warm rays cheered him 
and strengthened him. They seemed to speak 
across the distance to him that life — the life for 
which at that moment he would have gladly sacri- 
ficed his own — the life which within the space of 
but a few hours had been revealed to him in all its 
blind devotion, loyalty, pureness — still remained. 

59 


‘‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

He comforted himself with this assurance. The 
last picture had lied ! But how was the battle go- 
ing? He felt that almost his sanity depended up- 
on the speedy possession of this information. 

Roy retraced his steps to his room, caught up 
his cap, and, forgetful of school regulations to the 
contrary, descended the stairs and walked out into 
the fresh morning air. While he stood for a brief 
moment on the concrete steps, undecided as to his 
course, a small packet rattled to the ground at his 
feet. 

Quickly, he glanced up but no protruding head 
could be seen. He stepped out a few paces from 
the building and again gazed upward. Not a win- 
dow was open. 

‘Toor time for a joke,” he growled as he went 
forward to pick up the fallen parcel. 

The brass shell of an exploded cartridge, loose- 
ly rapped in an old envelope, was all that he found. 
He was about to cast the thing from him when 
something caught and held his eye. In the upper 
right-hand corner of the envelope, in the finest 
sort of hand and written with such an evident at- 
tempt at disguise as to make it almost illegible, 
were scribbled the following words : 

‘•TONIGHT. SANDER^S MILL. 1:30.” 

60 


IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 

To say that Templeton was puzzled, would be 
putting it mildly. All idea of a joke was now 
gone. He doubted not for a minute that the 
scrawl was meant for him. Try as he would, he 
could not think of any cadet in the school whom 
he could connect with such a message, delivered 
in such a manner. 

Sander's Mill, he remembered, was a ram-shack- 
led, two-story structure, long in disuse, situated at 
least two miles from the school in the midst of a 
clump of giant oaks. A deep, m-*rky stream flow- 
ed by its side. The building itself and the entire 
surroundings gave one a feeling of awe. For a 
mile around, not a sign of habitation was to be 
seen. 

Strange stories were told of the life of seclusion 
lived Oy the aged miller, owner and operator of the 
building in the long ago, and of his sudden and 
mysterious disappearance. Among the cadets, and 
many of the credulous country folks about Green- 
shore, there was an unshaken conviction that the 
old mill was haunted. 

Though muddled and worried by this peculiar 
happening, Roy's mind did not long dwell upon it. 
He remembered the little white cot and the band- 
61 


“SKEETER” McCOY 

aged face and that suffocating lump came into his 
throat anew. 

Carefully he folded the paper and put it into 
the small watch pocket of his cadet trousers. In 
doing so, he glanced downward and became aware 
for the first time that he was in mixed uniform. 
Again he mounted the stairs to his room, changed 
his sweater and serge cap for the proper cadet at- 
tire, hastily made his toilet at his stand, turned off 
the light and in a few minutes was headed across 
the campus, straight for the private residence of 
the Commandant. 

As he stood waiting for his ring to be answered, 
the muffled notes of '‘Reveille'^ came faintly to his 
ears. Roy reflected with a twinge that only once 
before during his career at Greenshore had orders 
gone out to “choke the calls.'' The Captain's own 
little daughter had, in that instance, fought the 
battle and — lost. It had required months for 
Greenshore to rally from this shock. Was such a 
trial again near at hand ? 

Captain Heywood, himself, opened wide the por- 
tal. Templeton involuntarily stepped back. The 
transformation which one night had wrought over 
the man before him was almost unbelievable. The 
62 


IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW, 
face was ashen, hair dishevelled, cheeks hollow and 
gaunt and the mouth pathetically drawn at the 
corners. The eyes, while turned in Roy's direc- 
tion, seemed to look miles beyond. 

‘Tardon me. Captain," he began as he saluted. 
‘T know I should not have left barracks. I had to, 
sir. How is he ?" Manly cadet, though he was, an 
humble and beseeching note, caught and under- 
stood by his superior, had crept into his voice. 

‘‘Come in, Templeton. Little McCoy is still un- 
conscious but other conditions are favorable. The 
crisis is near. We can but hope for the best, my 
boy." 

The man led the boy into his library and at their 
entry, a tall, middle-aged man arose from his 
chair. His blood-shot eyes and worn, burdened 
expression of sorrow, did not mar or hide the 
kindliness and strength written upon his counte- 
nance. A man of striking appearance, he was, his 
jet black hair streaked at the forehead and tem- 
ples with gray. His eyes, Roy saw at a glance, 
were duplicates of another pair, a pair which, how- 
ever, were set in a fairer and younger face. 

‘‘Mr. McCoy, allow me to present to you Cadet 
Templeton," said Captain Heywood simply. ‘‘He 
is fond of your son, sir," he added. Evidently 
63 


‘‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

‘‘Mother” Hardy had told all to the owner of the 
school. 

“I am pleased to know you, young man,” said 
the stranger as he shook Roy’s trembling, extend- 
ed hand, “and to know that you are a friend of my 
Charlie.” His grip tightened perceptibly with 
these words. 

For a full hour Roy sat quietly listening to the 
low and intermittent words of the Commandant 
and the troubled father. Only once did he break in- 
to the conversation. The atmosphere of gravity — 
even of foreboding — ^which seemed to infest the 
little library, with its long rows of musty, intel- 
lectual works, sombre, sentinel-like busts of long 
departed and famous personages, brought upon 
him a sense of oppression — at first a mere, vague 
feeling of uneasiness — ever swelling as the little 
brass clock on the mantle ticked away in the si- 
lence of the room — incessantly battering down his 
scant reserve of bouyancy and self-control until he 
could stand it no longer. Absolutely upset, with 
a jumble of almost incoherent words, he took his 
leave. 

As he returned briskly across the parade ground 
to Lanier, he regretted his visit. If anything, he 
felt more morbid than when he had left his room. 

64 



ROY 





0 




















0 . 

t 


9 






r 




IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW. 
Human suffering had played but a small part in 
this lad's life. No wonder, then, was it that the 
sight of the broken father and the owner of the 
school, writhing on a veritable rack built of re- 
sponsibility, should have added materially to the 
gloom which a long lonely introspection, coupled 
with a boy's sense of sorrow and a very vivid real- 
ization of the general lightning change in school 
life and thought, so recently undergone, had fast- 
ened within the young athlete's breast. 

The day's activities Drought some relief tp his 
benumbed senses. Instructors, as a rule very 
stern in their demand for attention, knowing the 
circumstances, leniently skipped over the work. 

The entire cadet corps, with a few possible ex- 
ceptions, were hushed and anxious. Little mirth 
was prevalent in the school, and the campus, usu- 
ally humming with boy life, was desolate and de- 
serted. One familiar with Greenshore life would 
have known, v/ithout further investigation, that 
all was not well with the little community on the 
hill. 

When the school session for the day was over, a 
freshly written sheet upon the bulletin board, 
signed by ‘Tlush," announced that the squad 
would be excused from reporting to the field for 
65 


‘^SKEETER” McCOY 

practice until further notice. Silently the lads 
read and passed on. 

Roy went directly to his room and throughout 
the long afternoon sat dejected among his friends. 
All their combined efforts failed to loose him, for 
even a moment, from the chains of despair which 
held him tenaciously a prisoner. Over and over, in 
his mind, he rebuked himself for his self -nominat- 
ed cruelty to McCoy. Why hadn’t he gone imme- 
diately to the little boy and told him that he knew 
the incriminating words were innocently spoken? 
Besides, circumstantial evidence, alone, would 
have brought about his downfall. Why hadn’t he 
shielded the kid from the buffets of outraged 
school sentiment which were but the results of 
misdirected loyalty to himself? 

How trivial had he considered a matter which, 
in his present state, seemed of most vast import- 
ance! He comforted himself, ever so little, with 
the thought that his various duties and responsi- 
bilities had usurped his time and his late unex- 
plained trouble with the office had sufficed to cen- 
ter his mind upon his own position in school af- 
fairs. 

Since his reduction, Roy had spoken no word in 
defense of his conduct or in explanation of the 
66 


IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW, 
ringing of the fire-bell. Friends who stubbornly 
refused to believe him guilty but who, at the same 
time, had to acknowledge that, in view of the 
testimony offered. Captain Heywood had taken 
the only open course, blamed neither party — ^re- 
spected the head of the school as just and retained 
their love and loyalty for Templeton. They felt 
that time alone would clear up the matter. 

This same view was held by those others in the 
Academy who merely knew Templeton — support- 
ers but not bosom friends. While he had, as every- 
one has, a certain set of intimates, he was any- 
thing but snobbish. Democratic in views, habits 
and associates was the Warsity Captain and this 
very fact had much to do with the position to 
which all sects, barring one, had lifted him. 

When the school as a whole discovered Roy^s 
hitherto concealed love for McCoy, a wave of 
sentiment and pity for the ill boy swept over it. 
Was not it Templeton, they reasoned, who was in- 
jured by “Skeeter’s” speech from ranks? If he 
understood and trusted the lad, what reason had 
they for complaint ? He was only a child and they 
had snubbed him. 

If the subject of all this thought could have 
kno^ of the change which had taken place and of 
67 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

the rousing reception and welcome which awaited 
him upon his reappearance — ^if he did reappear — 
the possession of this knowledge by him would 
have greatly aided the efforts of the three special- 
ists laboring at his bedside. 

All the facts just stated passed through Tem- 
pleton's mind and repassed until the afternoon sun 
began to sink behind the towers of the library. 
His friends, dear, loyal comrades, clung to him. 

“Roy, I believe the kid must be better,” sudden- 
ly spoke up Jack Snowden from the window. “I 
see that little imp of a brother of mine headed this 
way, under full steam.” 

“Where?” Roy, followed by the entire circle, 
jumped to the window. Sure enough, coming as 
fast as his chubby legs could eat up the distance, 
bareheaded, waving his arms like a windmill, was 
“Whitey.” 

As he neared the building he looked up and 
jerked his head violently back and forth several 
times in succession and then passed on into the 
building. This act and the sight of “Whitey's” 
flushed but radiant face took together the form of 
a message which was instantly understood by the 
watching lads above. 

They jumped from the window and rushed pell- 
68 


IN THE VALLEY OF THE SHADOW, 
mell to the door just as ‘"Whitey” fairly catapult- 
ed his way into the room. ‘"Buzz” Cohill and Jack 
went down before this onslaught of joy. ‘"Whitey,” 
himself, slid half the length of the room before 
coming up abruptly against the chiffonier. 

''Say, fellows,” he spluttered, “ 'Skeeter's’dead — 
I mean his dome's mended — he's awake. The Cap- 
tain just told me so. Old sawbones says the dan- 
ger's past. Oh, I'm a cackle — call a hen. I'm a 
fool — I'm an ass — I'm a gnat.” With this, the 
jubilant little messenger of cheer sprawled on his 
apple-basket and proceeded to scatter rugs to the 
right and left as he sailor-stroked his way across 
the dusty floor. 

What happened in that room for the next fifteen 
minutes could only be described with one word — 
pandemonium. All the joy of young hearts — 
freed from the rack — ^burst forth and carried 
everything before it. Pillows rose and fell upon 
nearest heads until the air seemed almost to rain 
feathers. Furniture was upset — glasses and 
bowls smashed with reckless abandon. In fact, 
Lanier Hall had never before witnessed such a tu- 
multuous “rough-house.” 

As after winter comes the sweet breath of 
69 


^‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

spring ; as after the storm the rainbow lights the 
way for receding thunder; as after the night 
comes the pink of dawn; after the battle comes 
the quietude of peace — ^so, to hearts alien to sa.l- 
ness, came surging back the uncheckable spirit 
and joy in existence, felt only by those basking in 
the sunbeams of youth. 


CHAPTER V. 


Sander’s Mill. 

I T was shortly past midnight when Roy, scratch- 
ed and bleeding, worming his way along on his 
stomach, reached the edge of the thicket. The 
stream bubbled and gurgled almost within reach 
of his hand. On the opposite bank the old mill 
stood silhouetted against a moonlit sky. 

Templeton lay motionless, confident of his se- 
curity but breathing hard from his recent exer- 
tions. The night hung dense and solemn about 
him. All was calm and serene. No sound chal- 
lenged the stillness of the night except the hoot- 
ing of an owl deep in the wood behind the hiding 
boy and the occasional barking of a watch dog in 
the distance, far to the right. Even the trees 
seemed wrapped in slumber, so motionless did 
they stand. It was truly the bewitching time of 
night. 

As the perspiration dried upon him, Roy shiver- 
ed from the keen night air. All the ghastly stor- 
ies which had been told him concerning this spot. 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

flashed through his mind. Fixedly he gazed to- 
wards the dark openings in the side of the old 
structure where he knew windows and sash had 
once been but which now were but black holes, re- 
vealing a denser darkness within. 

An hour passed and still he made no move other 
than to cautiously draw out his watch. He was 
disappointed to find that he could not read the 
time. To strike a light was out of the question. 
He figured that it must be near the time set down 
on the mysterious message. 

Ever since his friends had left his room, after 
the delivery of ‘"Whitey's” cheerful announc 
ment, Templeton had pondered upon and read 
many times the crumpled paper which that morn- 
ing had come to him in such a peculiar mannei. 
The first explanation which had occurred to him 
was that it was a decoy affair — that some person 
or party — ^most likely Willis’ crowd — was luring 
him to this lonely spot for some purpose, far from 
honorable or fnendly. But he soon discarded this 
idea. Not that he put such work past them, for he 
did not, that is, as far as evil intent was concern- 
ed. The execution of such a plan was a different 
matter. 

He reasoned, and very logically, that the mat- 
72 


SANDER’S MILL. 

ter was too open to have originated with them. 
Not one member of that unpopular click had cour- 
age enough to carry through such a piece of mis- 
chief. ^ 

Next, he considered whether or not some cadet 
friendly to him, but at the same time fearful of 
detection at the hands of “Hunch” and his ring, 
had desired to give him the opportunity of seeing 
or over-hearing something of vital interest or mo- 
ment to him, Templeton. 

The more he groped for a solution the more 
puzzled he became. Therefore, finally, he had de- 
cided to be on hand at the hour mentioned but to 
keep himself at a safe distance in the background 
— at least until opportunity offered some reward 
for risk. Here he might watch and wait for de- 
velopments. 

With this aim constantly before him, he remain- 
ed in the same cramped position among the briars 
and leaves of the almost impenetrable underbush. 
The minutes dragged by. 

The same common instinct, shared by man and 
beast alike, but more pronounced in the latter, of 
evading pitfalls, put each of his senses on edge. 
He was keenly aware of every sound of the night 
— of every ripple of the water. That things were 
73 


^‘SKEETER” McCOY 

going to happen he had not the slightest doubt. 
But he intended to be a spectator of the occur- 
rence, whatever it be, not a participant. In this 
he was to be surprised, however. The fact was 
that he bid fair to be the central figure in the en- 
tire proceedings — ^proceedings which promised to 
be fast and furious and which were destined to 
mark the turning point of his whole scholastic 
career. 

His patience was beginning to wane when his 
attentive ear caught the faint chug-chug of a 
motor car. Instinctively he wriggled a trifle deep- 
er into the brush. The sound of the approaching 
car’s engine grew louder and more distinct as the 
moments passed. The reflection from its lights 
danced along through the night — now fitfully 
lighting up the surrounding country, the distant 
roadside with its crazy old-fashioned worm fences 
— ^now suddenly dying out. 

Roy knew that the machine was hid from view 
by a steep hill, some quarter of a mile away. Ex- 
pectantly, he awaited the reappearance of its min- 
iature search-light. Several minutes passed by 
but no sound of exhaust or glimmer of light could 
he detect. 

Knowing the road to be straight and unbranch- 
74 


SANDER^S MILL. 

ed, the boy had about come to the conclusion that 
something had gone wrong with the motor, when 
a low hum and the crunching of clods, near at 
hand, caused his heart to bound into his throat. 

Templeton was now sure that in some way the 
auto was connected with the program set for the 
night. Motor cars were seldom seen on this rough 
country back road, especially at this season of the 
year and hour of the night. Then again, the fact 
that its light had been extinguished and mufflers 
thrown on, settled all doubt which might have pre- 
viously existed in his mind. Nor was he wrong. 

As the car reached right angles with the mill it 
suddenly swerved to the left and glided silently up 
to the very door of the building, halting without 
sound of lever or brake. Roy felt, as the machine 
left the road, that it was fortunate for him that 
the lights had been cut off. The car had been 
headed straight in his direction and might have 
revealed his hiding place to the occupants of the 
runabout. 

Two men, one tall and broad-shouldered and the 
other very small and with a decided stoop, jumped 
quickly to the ground. Without a word they push- 
ed the machine along for a few rods and left it con- 
cealed in a little grove of scrub hickories. The 
75 


‘‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

watching boy's pulses quickened as they wheeled 
and walked hastily toward the building. He could 
get a better view of them now and was surprised 
to notice that both were well-groomed. The taller 
man carried a small satchel in his hand. Neither 
face had Roy ever seen before. 

The strangers halted when they reached the en- 
trance at the nearest end of the mill. The little 
man, who Templeton now saw was somewhat de- 
formed, spoke in subdued tones to the other, but 
the boy could not catch the words. Both men 
turned slowly in a half -circle as if weighing the 
possibility of interference. 

The cadet's heart beat madly as they wheeled in 
his direction and walked towards him to the edge 
of the stream. Just twenty feet separated them 
from the spot where Roy lay, hardly daring to 
breathe. At the first sign of approach the boy 
had buried his face in the soft wood's soil in an ef- 
fort to get his head out of the range of their view. 
He was thankful that he had possessed foresight 
enough to remove his cap immediately upon his 
^ arrival. It would be hard to describe^the feeling 
of stifling expectation of immediate discovery 
which thoroughly imbued our young friend dur- 
ing the next minute or so. 

76 


SANDER^S MILL. 

The newcomers were evidently satisfied with 
their scrutiny of the woods in the immediate vi- 
cinity, for Roy soon heard their receding foot- 
steps. Ever so slowly, he raised his head, just in 
time to catch sight of the figures as they passed 
into the mill. 

‘‘Close,” he whispered to himself as he changed 
position in an attempt to ease his aching muscles. 

Quite an interval elapsed before any sign of life 
was heard from within. The flare of a lighted 
match testified to a round of investigation in 
progress on the interior of the dingy hovel. A 
door creaked on rusty hinges, slammed shut. The 
dying echoes reverberating through the place, be- 
gan another period of silence. 

Roy decided that the pair had passed on into 
the part of the mill furthest from him and was 
about to crawl to his knees with a view to finding 
a place where the old race might be forded when 
a twig snapped directly to his left. The hair rose 
upon his head as he again flattened himself along 
the ground. He could hear the soft rustle of dis- 
turbed leaves and the tearing of briars and under- 
brush. 

He was, of course, uncertain whether the mov- 
ing body was that of animal or human, and this 
77 


“SKEETER” McCOY 

thought served to add to his panicky feeling. His 
first impulse was to flee but discretion proved the 
master of terror, and he remained inert and 
breathless in his ambush. An instant's reasoning 
told him that flight would end in discovery, if not 
in capture. And Roy, knowing nothing of the im- 
port of transpiring events, did not relish discov- 
ery. 

For the life of him, Templeton could not help 
inclining his head in the direction from which the 
noise came. He could see the swaying of the 
bushes as the intruder thrashed his way along. 
Only a few yards more and the stream would block 
the progress. 

The flaying about stopped. The sound of labored 
breathing came to Roy's ears. Another charge and 
the figure of a man burst into view. A shock, 
equal to that caused by an electric current, pass- 
ed over the watching boy. His gasp of surprise 
amounted almost to a groan. It was Harry Lewis 
who stood upon the bank of the stream before 
him. 

Without a moment of hesitation the young fel- 
low headed down-stream, passing within touching 
distance of Templeton. The latter, itching to hail 
his friend and demand an explanation, restrained 
78 


SANDER^S MILL. 

himself and decided to play the game out. Allow- 
ing Harry to get a good, safe distance ahead, he 
rose slowly and followed in his friend's footsteps. 

The leading lad evidently soon found a suitable 
crossing place for he stopped, slid almost noise- 
lessly down the bank and began lightly to cross the 
stream. Roy again sidestepped quickly into the 
shadows, expecting Lewis to double back towards 
the mill along the opposite side. In this he was 
wrong. Reaching the level, Harry disappeared in- 
to the near-by grove and was quickly lost from 
view among the foliage. 

Though he made a special effort to shadow him, 
Roy did not catch even so much as a glimpse of the 
boy ahead. This he failed to understand for he 
had made haste to cross the stream himself as 
soon as he saw his friend disappear. 

Standing in the midst of the grove, he strained 
his ear to catch any sound of progress or move- 
ment about him. Silence reigned supreme. The 
uncomfortable thought that perhaps Harry, at 
that very instant, was near at hand watching him, 
occurred to Templeton. He could in no wise un- 
derstand the presence of his faithful comrade up- 
on the scene, yet he realized that, if he himself 
79 


^mEETER’^ McCOY 

were to be discovered, the same problem would 
confront Harry. The problem would, he thought 
with misgivings, be more difficult of satisfactory 
explanation in that he was trailing a friend, 
while Harry's mission smacked only of mystery. 
The existence of distrust, or rather, of apparent 
distrust of a friend, could in no manner be consid- 
ered as being proved by his actions. Templeton 
could fully understand how, in absence of explana- 
tion, a less optimistic view could be taken of his 
own part in the affair. 

At this moment, it would have taken very little 
coaxing to persuade Roy to drop the entire matter 
and return to the Academy. However, the period 
of indecision soon passed and he was once more a 
thoroughly wide-a-wake sleuth. Harry, he knew^ 
had never before failed to take him into his confi- 
dence when trouble or perplexity was at hand. 
His interest as to what the secret meeting meant 
fled and melted before his burning anxiety as re- 
gards Harry's connection with the matter at hand. 
This irresistible desire to get at the root of all is 
what caused him to push on stealthily through 
the grove. 

Reaching the edge of the clearing he stopped 
for a moment to survey the scene before him. The 
80 


SANDER^S MILL. 

moon, peeping through a clouded sky, threw a 
weird light over the earth. A short distance to 
the side of him, the little black runabout could be 
seen, though it took a close scrutiny to locate its 
position. Ahead, only the mill building broke the 
stretch between the creek and the roadway. The 
realization that within its dark, gloomy recesses 
two, and very probably three, human beings were 
gathered, sent a chill down Templeton’s spine. 

A rapid, half-shrinking pace carried him to the 
door. Quivering with excitement, he flattened 
himself against the rough weather-boarding, 
ready for instant action or flight, whichever the 
case might call for. Breathlessly, every muscle 
taut, he listened. Not a sound came from within. 
Still keeping his body close to the planks, he mov- 
ed, foot by foot, toward the opening. A single 
rough step led to the threshold. Slowly he placed 
his weight upon this, now in a crawling position. 
With a snap which, to his startled senses, seemed 
like the roar of a gun, the top board gave way be- 
neath him. His nerves were jangling and his pulses 
raced. Several minutes of agonizing suspense 
elapsed before he became calm under the assur- 
ance that the crash had not been detected. 

Slowly rising to his feet he, for the first time, 
81 


^‘SKEETER'^ McCOY 

placed his hands within the building and drew his 
body after. An odor, musty and pungent, of de- 
cayed grain and old machinery, filled his nostrils. 
As he groped along the worn, uneven fioor, a 
mouse scuttled past him. 

‘"Ugh,” he gasped as he stopped for a moment. 

Thirty feet more and his hands came in contact 
with a large grill stone. Turning to his left, he 
crawled slowly down an alleyway of bins. Almost 
immediately, he was again startled, this time by a 
bat which fiuttered out of a crevice at his very 
side and whirred aloft. Little, scampering feet 
could be heard in the distant, unexplored comers 
of the room. The place seemed alive with animals 
or insects of one kind or another. Roy thought of 
the possibility of the presence of reptiles and 
shuddered. 

From the intelligence which he had gleaned 
while lying in wait by the stream, he judged that 
the motorists were in a second room beyond. The 
old grinding stone had somewhat turned his 
course but he felt sure that he was headed in the 
right direction. 

A scraping sound as of wood against wood, 
halted him in his tracks. It was repeated and a 
82 


SANDER’S MILL. 

second later, a narrow slit of light on a level with 
the floor, shone out ahead and to the right. It 
showed unmistakably that beyond the door, hard- 
ly twenty feet distant, something was transpir- 
ing. 

The remaining twenty feet to the light took 
several minutes of cautious and nerve-racking 
creeping and its completion found the former 
cadet major with the blood pounding at his tem- 
ples and his limbs shaking from the nervous 
strain. Losing not a second, he put his eye to the 
key-hole. A section of a room, small in dimen- 
sions, its floor littered with fallen debris, met his 
gaze. Cob-webs hung in shrouds from the ceiling. 
No furniture could be seen. A gruff voice within 
spoke — low — hurriedly — so low as to be almost a 
mumble. A milder one — ^that of a boy — evidently 
in expostulation — answered. Templeton knew the 
voice and he caught several of the words. 

‘Too — ^risk — ^money. Can’t — turn — ^friend — a 

song. Might — ^both — goners.” 

« Templeton. Think of yourself,” piped the 

shrill voice of a third party. Roy started at the 
mention of his own name. This time every word 
had been distinctly heard. He pressed his ear 
83 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

against the key-hole till the iron ring cut into the 
flesh. Again the familiar voice came in reply. 

‘‘Oh well, if that's your limit, fork it over. Fm 
slightly overdue back there, you know." 

Roy knew that Harry had indicated the Acade- 
my. 

“Not running exactly as per schedule myself," 
he whispered. But he was more determined than 
ever to see the thing through. He was not puz- 
zled now. He was stupified. 

“Sensible kid. Zack, hand me the bag.” 

The man's gruff voice was plainly audible this 
time. 

A shuffling of feet, drawing nearer to the door, 
warned Templeton that it was time to leave. Still 
he stuck. Now it was his eye which was glued to 
the small aperture. 

Three figures walked into view. One was Harry 
Lewis. His face was white and drawn as he ex- 
tended his arm and accepted the roll of bills pro- 
offered by the tall man with a satisfied smile. His 
left hand he inserted into his breast pocket, with- 
drew it, and handed a folded paper to his compan- 
ion. The dwarf merely looked on, his piggish 
black, deep-set eyes twinkling. 

“Well, kid, good luck. I hope — ” 

84 


SANDER^S MILL. 

Templeton decided that it was time to move. 
Just as cautiously as he had entered with, per- 
haps, a trifle more speed, he made for the door. 
Midway across the floor he stumbled over a me- 
talic vessel of small size but of great proclivities 
for clamor. No acrobat could have gained his feet 
with greater rapidity or more agility than did he. 
Around the bins he dodged, now entirely forget- 
ful of injury from collision. The door at the other 
end of the room came open with a bang. No light 
beamed forth, however. At the first sound it had 
been extinguished. This fact proved the salvation 
of Roy. 

With a final desperate leap he cleared the 
threshold. At the instant that his feet left the 
floor a pistol spoke behind. For several hundred 
yards he ran as he had never run before — desper- 
ately — unmindful of branches which whipped and 
cut his face — of low brush which tore his clothing 
and tripped him, time and time again. 

Trained athlete that he was, he breathed in 
short, burning gasps as he stopped to listen. No 
sign of pursuit reached him. Templeton was not, 
however, taking chances. With a long, swinging 
stride, he again darted forward. After crossing 
the stream, a mile or more from the mill, and mak- 
85 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

ing his way through a narrow strip of wood, he 
came out upon the state pike and thankfully turn- 
ed his face toward Greenshore, 


86 


CHAPTER VI. 


A Victory and a Discovery. 

C AXTON HIGH came to Greenshore confi- 
dent and determined to take the measure 
of the Academy boys in the opening con- 
test of the cadet’s schedule. A squad of eighteen 
husky lads they were, accompanied and champion- 
ed by a band of fully two hundred supporters. 

Caxton was a hustling and progressive town of 
nearly twenty thousand inhabitants, situated 
twenty-two miles up the river from Greenshore. 
The high school boys were a clean, gentlemanly 
lot and for this reason, if for no other, each year 
found them upon the Academy’s various athletic 
schedules. As a rule they had proven themselves 
to be as skillful and formidable as they were clean, 
and were considered by the Greenshore cadets as 
foes, not only to be respected, but to be feared. 

The day had dawned dark and foreboding, and 
a cold drizzling rain began to fall at six o’clock, 
but by ten the sun had peeped through the clouds 
and at four, the hour of the game, the weather 
87 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

conditions were ideal for foot ball. A goodly crowd 
was on hand and upon the slope floated a sea of 
Greenshore’s Blue and White while from the op- 
posite side of the fleld, Caxton's Orange and Black 
defiantly waved and blazed. 

The cadet team appeared first and received a 

rousing cheer. Out from the gym. on a brisk run 

they came, twenty-eight warriors strong. As they 

reached the gridiron the squad divided, the War- 

sity going on to mid-field and the second-string 

men stopping at the edge of the field, at the foot 

of the slope, where they dropped to the ground, in 

a blanketed row, loyal, obedient — waiting for the 

call for aid, the nervous, upward, beckoning jerk 

« 

of “Flush’s” arm that always came at the first in- 
timation that new reserve strength was needed to 
stem the enemy’s march. 

As the few preliminary signals were being run 
through by the Blue and White “Plush” followed 
close in the wake of the machine which he had 
builded, silent for the most part, yet occasionally 
speaking a few terse words of advice or admoni- 
tion as the eleven advanced down the field in quick, 
even, composite rushes. 

The coach was soon evidently satisfied with the 
work and fitness of his charges for he called a halt. 

88 


A VICTORY AND A DISCOVERY. 

The majority of the team followed their mentor to 
the sidelines, a few going to the upper end of the 
field to practice at goals. As their favorites ap- 
proached the slope the cadet corps arose en masse, 
and at the signal from the megaphone leaders 
broke into that inspiring and muscle-tightening 
song of loyalty and devotion which has, from time 
immemorial, served as an instant stimulant to 
brace up bruised and spent Greenshore linesmen, 
to drive aching Greenshore legs a little further on, 
to put into each Greenshore heart that tenacious, 
never-slackening determination to do or die for 
Greenshore, Greenshore teams and Greenshore 
sons : 

'‘Here's to the brave heart in each breast 
And here's to the White and Blue 
Here's to the gamest band on earth 
Here's to our warriors true. 

Here's to the life she gives to us 
As bright as the light of day 
Here's to the school we love so well 
Here's to old G. M. A.” 

As the cadets again resumed their seats, the 
Caxton team trotted upon the field and were loud- 
ly applauded by the loyal who had accompanied 
the high school eleven. The Greenshore contin- 
89 


^^SKEETER^’ McCOY 

gent also rolled a magnanimous greeting of wel- 
come across the field. 

No one but those who have witnessed these 
school-boy struggles can appreciate the beauty 
and tenseness of the scene. Here two rival bands, 
each with its own cohorts of sympathizers, each 
filled with a deep and inexpressible desire to win, 
each impatiently awaiting the whistle which will 
start the battle for glory. Yet over the whole 
hangs an atmosphere of good-fellowship and good 
sportsmanship. The battle must be won — each 
party to the conflict will unhesitatingly impress 
this point upon you — ^but no mark or stain of dis- 
honor or unfairness must cast its acid taste into 
the victor’s cup. The sentiment, loyalty and love 
•—coupled with the traditions of the past — which 
form the very background, as it were, for these 
life-size pictures of mimic warfare, are posses- 
sions acquired during the old golden school-days, 
which in after life will cause the then man to serve 
his country in that manner most becoming any 
true citizen. 

At the call of the official, the two captains, War- 
ren of Caxton and Templeton of Greenshore, met 
in the center of the field and shook hands, while 
cheers for each were roared by their respective 
90 


A VICTORY AND A DISCOVERY, 
admirers. A coin flickered in the sunlight and the 
choice fell to Templeton. He decided to receive the 
ball and the two teams lined up for the kick-off. 
Twenty-two eager, alert flgures tensely awaited 
the referee's whistle. Shrill and sharp it sounded, 
and almost simultaneously the Caxton full-back 
booted the ball straight into the arms of Green- 
shore's left end, who ran it back thirty yards. 
With a snap and a dash wonderful to see, the two 
teams again lined up and ‘"Buzz" Cohill sang out a 
quick, even series of numbers. Suddenly he stop- 
ped. 

"'Shift." A swift, agile jump to the right by 
the entire cadet line — a half-second's pause — and 
Charley Buck, Greenshore's right half, tore 
through Caxton's unbalanced line for a twelve 
yard gain. Then in quick succession play follow- 
ed play until the ball was worked well up into the 
enemy's territory, where it was lost on downs. 

Caxton's line was heavier than Greenshore's, 
and for the first few minutes of play the latter 
found it hard to stop the visitors' repeated line 
plunges. Templeton went here and there giving 
encouraging slaps and cheery words to his men. 
Another terrific plunge and like a veritable batter- 
91 


‘‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

ing-ram, Warren, the visiting captain, gouged his 
way through for five yards. 

Again Captain Templeton was in action. “Boys, 
for Greenshore,” he reminded them. 

Instantly there came a change. The cadet line 
bristled and grew taut from end to end. Caxton's 
next attempt through tackle was a failure and she 
soon had to resort to fake plays and end runs. 
Many of these were successful, and the Greenshore 
rooters began to grow uneasy. 

Cheer leaders for both schools were now at th^ir 
best and a perfect bedlam of noise came from the 
side-lines. 

“We want a touch — we want a touch — ^we want 
a touch-DOWN!’’ 

“H — 0 — L — D them, Greenshore ! H — 0 — L — D 
them, Greenshore!” 

These and many other prayers and entreaties 
came out upon the chalk-marked battle field to the 
perspiring and toiling young gladiators. Both 
teams threw every ounce of their energy into the 
next play. Steadily, yard by yard, did Caxton 
carry the ball forward, while the Orange and 
Black section of the field went wild. 

At last by a neatly executed forward pass the 
ball was placed on Greenshore’s ten-yard line. On 
92 


A VICTORY AND A DISCOVERY, 
the next down the Caxton quarter, through over- 
anxiousness, fumbled, and out from the tangled 
mass sprang Templeton with the ball tucked snug- 
ly under his arm. He was downed on the fifty-yard 
line. Buck went through Harry Lewis’ tackle for 
eight yards. On a full-back plunge through the 
line by Templeton the required distance was gain- 
ed. Here the advance stopped, the ball going over. 

Thus the battle raged, up and down the field, 
until, with but two minutes of the half to play, the 
Orange and Black’s right half back, running the 
full width of the field and aided by superb interfer- 
ence, skirted the cadet left end for a touch-down. 

Pandemonium reigned among the Caxton root- 
ers. The Blue and White fiags were motionless. 
The try at goal was made at a difficult angle and 
the ball went wide of its mark. 

Again the two teams lined up for kick-off, this 
time Caxton receiving the ball on their twenty- 
yard line and bringing it back to mid-field. Here 
time was called. Score : Caxton 6 ; Greenshore 0. 

The short intermission between periods was 
welcomed by players of each team, for the first 
quarter had been fast and furious. Roy, stern- 
faced and determined, called his team about him 
and spoke to them, gently — ^beseechingly — and 
93 


^‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

yet with an air which did not betray his real anxie- 
ty but gave them the impression that he was sure 
of final triumph — had the greatest confidence in 
them to bring him the victory. The result was 
that each cadet player took his position at the be- 
ginning of the second period, determined to justi- 
fy their captain's faith in them. But they were 
to be disappointed, as far as the matter of making 
the score even was concerned, though be it said in 
their favor that they fought their heavier oppon- 
ents to a stand-still. In place of the somew^hat in- 
different play of the Greenshore line during the 
first fifteen minutes of play, Caxton now found a 
stonewall to meet her frantic plunges. Tiring of 
bruising his backs against such an impenetrable 
line of forwards. Captain Warren tried the ends. 
Failure accompanied these efforts as did his resort 
to trick plays. Greenshore was now fighting true 
to form and soon secured possession of the ball. 

Greenshore's first few attempts to advance the 
ball were successful and three times did they 
make the required distance, only to be finally 
brought to a halt within striking distance of Cax- 
ton's goal. The high school captain had learned 
his lesson and decided to punt out of danger. This 
he did and got off a long spiral. After two inef- 
94 


A VICTORY AND A DISCOVERY, 
fectual attempts — one at line and one fake play, 
Roy also decided upon a punting game. This was 
wise, for he was the better punter, and each ex- 
change gained quite a margin for the cadets. 

Receiving Warren's punt upon the forty-yard 
line, knowing that time was nearly up for the half, 
Roy put all his remaining energy and determina- 
tion into one last boot. A beauty it was too, one 
of those not-too-high, twisting spirals, so difficult 
to handle. Into the nervous and over-anxious 
arms of Caxton's left half-back it revolved — was 
momentarily held — then rolled out and off to the 
side where it was almost instantly covered by a 
Greenshore jersey. The ball now lay on Caxton's 
ten-yard line. 

A joyous cry came from the slope. Templeton's 
mighty kick of fifty yards aroused hope of an im- 
mediate tie score, if not victory. The fates seem- 
ed against the Blue and White, however, for 
'‘Bu?z" Cohill had hardly called the first number 
in his signal for the next play when the timer 
rushed upon the field and brought further hostili- 
ties and hope to a halt. Score; Caxton, 6; 
Greenshore, 0. 

Hurrying to the gymnasium for the intermis- 
sion between halves, Roy saw something which 
95 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

caused his heart to jump into his throat. Behind 
the laundry building grew a little clump of cedars 
and in the midst of these stood three familiar fig- 
ures, ‘‘Hunch” Willis and the two mysterious 
strangers of the mill. They seemed to be talking 
excitably but in monotones and did not notice 
Templeton, as he stood on the hillside above them. 

The squad had passed on towards the gymna- 
sium — all but Harry Lewis. Only for iin instant 
had he hesitated, however. Seeing Roy stop, he 
had followed the line of his gaze — stared open- 
mouthed — and passed on. Roy, close behind h*s 
chum, felt a return of that uneasy feeling of 
doubt, suspicion and anxiety which he had experi- 
enced the night at the mill. Quickly as the whole 
had transpired, Roy had not failed to catch the 
pallor of Harry's face which gave way almost in- 
stantly to a wave of crimson. He loved this boy 
dearly, cherished his friendship highly, and fought 
to keep away the cloud of doubt which was daily 
dimming his happiness. 

As he entered the dressing room, filled with 
down-hearted and wearied lads, his thoughts 
quickly returned to the game. With a cheerful 
smile he dropped down upon a bench and awaited 
his coach's words. They were few and well-chos- 
96 


A VICTORY AND A DISCOVERY, 
en. He did not berate them. “Plush^^ never did. 
Calmly he told them their faults and wherein they 
had failed and begged tnem to bring him back the 
victory. 

As the referee’s whistle came faintly to them 
from the field *Tlush” turned to Templeton : 

‘‘Offensive game, this half, boy. Fakes and for- 
ward passes. Keep ’em fighting.” And with a 
mighty squeeze of the boy’s shoulder which told 
more than words, he was off to the field. 

Receiving the kick-off on the fifteen-yard line. 
Captain Templeton carried the ball well into his 
opponents’ territory. By line plunges, cross- 
bucks, fake kicks, and forward passes, all execut- 
ed with a snap and dash not shown in the first 
half, the ball was carried within ten yards of Cax- 
ton’s goal line. 

Jack Snowden tore through the line for six 
yards, and a few seconds later he was again called 
upon and responded by carrying the pigskin over 
for a tie score. Caxton, chagrined, lined up be- 
neath the bar, and Templeton dropped out 
for the kick. He took plenty of time, saw that the 
ball was held in exactly the proper position, and at 
the signal of the referee took a step forward and 
— straight as an arrow, the ball sped over the bar. 
97 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

‘'Goal/' cried the official, and now it was the 
Blue and White which moved, while its owners 
gave vent to spasmodic shrieks of joy. Score: 
Greenshore, 7 ; Caxton, 6. 

Again Greenshore received the kick-off, and ad- 
vanced the ball by steady gains to Caxton's fifteen 
yard line, there only to lose it on a fumble. War- 
ren punted, after which Caxton took a brace and 
for the balance of the quarter, the battle was near- 
ly even. The period ended with the ball on Green- 
shore's forty-yard line and in her opponent's pos- 
session. 

The final quarter witnessed desperate playing 
by both teams, yet neither gained materially. 
With but four minutes to play, Caxton's back field 
executed a swift triple pass, netting forty yards. 
This gain put the ball on the cadet ten yard line. 

Realizing that apparent victory might be turn- 
ed into defeat. Captain Templeton exhorted his 
men to put forth every atom of their strength and 
skill. 

The ball was snapped, and the Orange and Black 
full-back went through for nine yards. Next the 
left half-back attempted a cross-buck pla>-, but 
had barely gotten started when Greenshore's right 
tackle, Harley, dashed his man aside and tore 
98 


A VICTORY AND A DISCOVERY, 
through in time to bring the runner down from 
behind. 

A steady, prayerful cry to ''hold^^ came from the 
slope. The Greenshore players dug their cleats 
into the ground and waited. 

Roy, glancing toward the side-lines, saw a pa- 
thetic little figure in a wheel chair waving his 
arms excitedly above his head and screaming at 
the top of his voice. ‘‘Mother*^ Hardy was stand- 
ing beside the chair. Templeton could see that 
‘'Skeeter'’ was directing his movements and words 
to him. Many memories floated through his mind 
and chief among these was the thought of how 
deeply this child loved him and how he had suffer- 
ed. His brain cleared. Every muscle became 
alert. He waved his hand to little McCoy and set 
himself, crouching near and low behind the line, 
for the onslaught which he knew was coming. 

The visitors’ quarter hesitated a moment, then 
gave the signal for the full back to plunge the line. 
The instant the ball was snapped every Green- 
shore man lurched forward to meet this final, de- 
ciding impact. 

The full-back had just reached the line of 
scrimmage when he was sent sprawling, together 
with his halves. Roy, with the fury of a wild 
99 


“SKEETER^^ McCOY 

beast, had thrown his body, headforemost and low 
to the ground, at the feet of his own tackle where 
the play was aimed. A smashing, bruising crush 
it was, with its jamming knees and grinding feet, 
but Templeton minded not, for in his frenzied grip 
he held both legs of the man with the ball. 

Caxton's supporters sent up a great roar of ap- 
plause, thinking the ball was over, but when the 
dust cleared away and the men had regained their 
feet it was seen that the visitors had failed to gain 
the goal by barely two feet. 

Amidst a burst of applause and shrieks of joy 
from the slope the ball was brought out five yards 
to allow room for punting, and Templeton booted 
it far out of the danger zone. The runner had 
scarcely been thrown when time was called. 

Hardly had the victors finished their cheer for 
the vanquished when their supporters, mad with 
joy, were upon them. Around and around the his- 
toric old field they carried their heroes upon their 
shoulders, followed by a mob of cheering and howl- 
ing humanity. 

As soon as he could break away from his half- 
wild admirers, Roy hurried over to ‘"Skeeter’s” 
side, nodding pleasantly to ‘‘Mother” he grasped 
the little extended hand while his mouth went to 
100 


A VICTORY AND A DISCOVERY, 
the child's ear. A look of joy radiated from the 
large blue eyes and a deep flush surmounted his 
face. 

“No, no ! You did it. It was the great — ” 

“Wrong, kiddie. My word on it. But let that 
go. What I said last is what counts.” With an- 
other pressure of “Skeeter's” hand and a farewell 
nod, Roy was off to the gym. And as he went up 
the dear old familiar slope in the approaching 
dusk, he murmured words of thanks for life, 
health and friends. 

And up the same slope, towards the infirmary, 
in a wheel-chair another happy lad went and his 
heart was full of song and his life full of gladness. 

Do you wonder what Roy said last ? 


101 


CHAPTER VII 


Jerry’s. 

HIFTY” JERRY’S place was doing a thriv- 
^ ing business. The dingy little store- 
room in front of the long, narrow frame 
building, located in a poor section of Greenshore’s 
outskirts, was agog with the worst type of human- 
ity to be found along the river-front. The air 
wreaked with the foul and long-confined smell of 
cheap tobacco. Loud oaths and drunken, vulgar 
talk, filled the air. 

From a room to the rear, a tinkling of glass 
hinted at illegal business and hidden patronage. 
The cash register jingled incessantly as the little, 
beady-eyed proprietor fairly jumped back and 
forth from the counter and greedily collected the 
sweat-earned nickels and dimes. 

It was Thursday afternoon and after the hour 
for shutting down the mills along the river front. 
The heads of many pitiable homes were here col- 
lected, some reluctantly and others without a pang, 
giving up the greater portion of the day’s earn- 
102 


JERRY^S. 

ings in a mad scramble to satisfy their craving 
for rum. Later, with senses deadened and minds 
crazed under the influence of woman’s most heart- 
less and deadly oppressor, they would stumble or 
slink beneath the portal of homes wrecked and 
neglected, where over-worked and heart-broken 
women and emaciated, poorly clad and half-starv- 
ed children awaited, with half the spirit of hope 
and half the spirit of fear, the placing in the fami- 
ly plate of the remnant which had escaped the 
magnet of Jerry’s coffers. Tomorrow, the path 
would be the same — a day of toil — an hour’s de- 
bauch — a scant and insufficient meal — gulped 
down amid a torrent of drunken growls, curses 
and threats, answered by a woman’s entreaties 
and the wail of a startled child — a few hours of 
intoxicated slumber — and again the factory bell. 

Yes, Jerry had done well — financially. For 
years he had held a monopoly on the wharf trade 
and had successfully evaded the occasional weak- 
kneed attempts of the law to confine his business 
to legitimate channels. Tho’ the desire is preval- 
ent and the intent is good, it has often proved next 
to the impossible for the proper and much-sought 
legal status to endure and be a power in vicinities 
populated by foreigners and the lower class of 
103 


‘^SKEETER” McCOY 

To allow the boys into the rear room meant dis- 
aster, and Jerry loved prosperity. Besides, “The 
Ring’' had demanded privacy, and, far more im- 
pressive with Jerry, was the fact that they were 
willing to pay high for it. His own willingness of 
heart expanded in exact proportion to the expan- 
sion of his customers’ money bags. 

No questions were asked of him as he resumed 
his place behind the counter — no comment was 
made when, after a few minutes of scribbling on 
a piece of wrapping paper, he stepped through the 
door of the rear room. Many eyes watched him 
as he reappeared and entered his own quarters. In 
his hand was a bucket and in the bucket were 
many bottles. 

Hardly had Jerry closed the door behind him 
when two well-dressed men, one small and deform.- 
ed, the other tall and broad, came in the street en- 
trance and glanced searchingly about the room. 
The battered door, set in the left side-wall, again 
opened and without a word the two strangers 
obeyed Jerry’s beckoning finger and disappeared 
within. 

Whatever was thought or feared by Jerry’s pa« 
trons never gained utterance — except in silent 
puffing at cob-pipes or knowing winks slyly ex- 
106 


JERRY'S. 

changed. Many times before had they seen Jerry 
in doubtful transactions. Also, there was no man 
in the store but who had written down in his life- 
book lines of experience upon which he would not 
relish the search-light of public knowledge to be 
thrown. To them the present case appealed only 
to their curiosity because only slightly fraught 
with danger — a '‘shady" deal being pulled by their 
chief, in whom they had explicit faith as far as his 
ability to extricate himself was concerned. 

Nor would the events which were transpiring 
behind the closed wall door have proved of any 
particular interest to the loiterers about the store. 
A meeting of plotters it was, but the subject in 
hand was far removed from the general line of 
work followed by the crowd without. 

About the shining oak center table the cadets 
and strangers were seated while their foaming 
glasses testified that all were workers in a com- 
mon pact. 

"Hunch" Willis, with a wdcked leer, opened the 
conversation. 

"Well, how about it, Zack? Did Lewis fall for 
it?" 

"Like a plummet, me boy. Easiest rag I ever 
wrung. Jest a little leary at fust 'bout Temple- 
107 


“SKEETER^^ McCOY 

ton's share but the iron men get him in the end." 

A look of criminal glee surmounted Willis' en- 
tire visage. ‘'How much did you offer?" he asked 
in a nonchalant manner as he refilled his glass. 

“Hundred, cheap haul at dat, too kiddo." The 
little deformed man who had done all the relating, 
grinned in a self-satisfied manner. 

“Not so fast, Zack. Don't be too sure. Lewis 
might have written the double-cross for you." The 
large, faultlessly dressed man, evidently a profes- 
sional gambler, had at last spoken. A look, half 
of doubt and half of anxiety, showed plainly that 
he did not share his pal's feeling of complacency 
and absolute security. 

“Never ‘appened, 'Bil.' We got de kid fast on 
dis deal. Soon as 'Hunch' here says dat dis guy 
Lewis was sort of 'pendent on de dough wat 'e 
gets for scribbling fer de 'Cur'ier' to pay fer 'is 
schuling, I sets my opery glasses on de kid. Den 
w'en I 'ears dat he was mebbe de closest pal wat 
dis gink Templeton 'as and dat 'e never was known 
to 'varicate even w'en ole 'eywood t'reatened to 
t'row 'im outen schule in 'is fust year, I opines 'e 
’s de kind of chick what wouldn't squeak if 'e onct 
could be drawed from 'is own coop. So I 'lowed 
Fd take de chance. I knowed dat if de iron men 
108 


JERRY^S. 

didn't 'parlize 'is optics and 'e put up a bawl, we 
could vaporize. But 'e come right up to de *tan- 
glefoot' and stuck. And knowing de kid and 's 
rep'tation at de 'cademy, I know dat 'e stuck 
square and dat 'e's gonna stay stuck. Ain't dat 
right, ‘Hunch?' " 

“Correct. If Lewis gave you his word, you are 
safe. I have to acknowledge that he is straight, 
much as I hate him. But hand me the paper and 
let me give it the ‘once over.' " 

The little hunch-back fumbled in his coat pocket 
a moment and drew forth a folded sheet which he 
immediately handed to the leader of the “Ring." 
“Hunch" straightway buried his face in the paper. 

“Allright boys," said the cripple as he turned 
toward his confederate and the cadets, “while 
‘Hunch' is putting the acid to it, let's fill 'er up 
again." 

The boys obeyed the invitation with alacrity. 
Up to this time they had not been drawn into the 
conversation, deeming it wiser to allow Willis, 
their acknowledged and idolized leader, to act as 
spokesman. Now, however, this young scalawag, 
being deeply engrossed in his work of tracing over 
various dotted lines and frowning over diverse 
symbols and figures on the sheet before him, it 
109 


“SKEETER” McCOY 

fell to them to so speak and deport themselves as 
would prove to the strangers the honor, if such it 
might be termed, of the “Ring.” 

“Sure will seem good to see Templeton, high and 
mighty leader of Greenshore, gentleman, athlete 
and scholar, take his second tumble of the year.” 
“Boss” Minot, sweeping the foam from his glass 
onto the carpet, spoke with a sort of triumph and 
reckless abandon tinging his words. Though a 
“tough” or “roughneck,” by the definition of the 
more refined class of school boys, he was not equal 
to the pace set by the strangers during the past 
half hour. Nor were his companions, with the ex- 
ception of Willis, a lad old in vice and evil ways. 
Already their cheeks were flushed and their voices 
rang with an unnatural mirth. 

“Sure will, old sport. But weVe got to be sure 
that there's no loose string. Templeton has a sort 
of uncanny knack of eluding the irons and we'd 
better be certain to chink up all the cracks and 
knot-holes. Sometimes, I feel awful shaky about 
this Lewis deal. Doesn't seem to stand to reason 
that he would turn down Templeton, who has pro- 
tected and helped him along ever since he entered 
here. But you can't tell. There's bigger crooks 
than you and I in the high society circles. This 
110 


JERRY^S. 

Lewis might be another Judas.” After this some- 
what lengthy dissertation “Ring” Tyree slid his 
empty glass playfully over the now sloppy table 
top and, with a knowing look, settled drowsily back 
into his chair. 

“No.” Willis had finished his scrutiny of the 
paper and was again speaking. “Lewis has play- 
ed square with you, Zack. These signals are gen- 
uine ; there can be no doubt of that. I was on the 
squad last year until Templeton had me bounced, 
curse him. I remember where every play, built 
around him, was aimed. And the signals for each 
play are correct. For instance,” and he moved 
closer to the men and illustrated with his fingers 
along the dotted lines, “take this delayed pass. See 
the line going from center to quarter. Now see 
the red arrow straight out from the quarter to- 
wards right end; also the black dotted line from 
the left half to the hole between center and right 
guard. That shows the fake pass from the quart- 
er to the left half as he hits right guard. You 
can see that the full-back hits the hole ahead of 
the half. Now watch .this curved dotted line 
swinging around from the quarter towards left 
guard. That is the real pass by the quarter as he 
turns in his tracks and gives the ball to the right 
111 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

half. The half has waited until the other two 
backs have gotten in motion. Then he plunges 
the line between center and left guard.” 

“But in this play Templeton does not carry the 
ball.” The well-dressed one with the gambler's 
eye was all interest now, but seemed only concern- 
ed with these things which in some way affected 
Templeton. 

“That is true. I simply took this diagram to 
show that Lewis has handed you a straight tip. 
I hid under the stand yesterday until secret prac- 
tice was under way and saw this play run time and 
time again. That is the reason I explained this 
one first. Of course, the entire sheet should go to 
Fairfield but we must be dead sure that they 
understand the plays in which Templeton carries 
the ball. If Fairfield is to win, that swell-head 
must be stopped.” 

“Oh, he'll be stopped. Leave that to us,” chuck- 
led the man. 

“We fix dat. Den we 'aul in Greenshore money.” 
Zack, drank afresh to the result of their huge bet- 
ting scheme. 

“Boss” Minot was still a little dubious. “But 
suppose the Fairfield fellows won't accept the 
tip and preach good sportsmanship ?” 

112 


JERRY^S. 

‘‘Good point but akeady covered, son. The 
Fairfield players will never know that they are 
playing on stolen signals until the milk has been 
split. But you were right. That fiery little buck, 
Webb, who is captain of the team, would never 
consent to the use of this er — ^borrowed coie. 
He's the dub who raised so much cain about the 
playing of professionals by nearly every school in 
our league last spring and he won out, too. If he 
should get wind of this little scheme, no doubt his 
first move would be to notify Templeton of the 
facts and urge him to get up an entirely new set 
of signals.” 

“Bat's so.'' 

“Mum's the word with Webb.” 

“He's a saint as well as a fool, allright.” 

Evidently Captain Webb had a reputation to be 
cherished. 

“So I left the main road and got the doctor,” 
continued “Hunch.” That guy, Raley, Fair- 
field's new coach, is an unknown quantity to 
folks around here, but I have the right dope when 
I say that he is the keenest crook to be found run- 
ning loose. He came to Fairfield from a school 
out in Illinois and last week I received a volumin- 
ous letter from a sedate and well-meaning uncle 
113 


‘‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

half. The half has waited until the other two 
backs have gotten in motion. Then he plunges 
the line between center and left guard.” 

''But in this play Templeton does not carry the 
ball.” The well-dressed one with the gambler's 
eye was all interest now, but seemed only concern- 
ed with these things which in some way affected 
Templeton. 

"That is true. I simply took this diagram to 
show that Lewis has handed you a straight tip. 
I hid under the stand yesterday until secret prac- 
tice was under way and saw this play run time and 
time again. That is the reason I explained this 
one first. Of course, the entire sheet should go to 
Fairfield but we must be dead sure that they 
understand the plays in which Templeton carries 
the ball. If Fairfield is to win, that swell-head 
must be stopped.” 

"Oh, he'll be stopped. Leave that to us,” chuck- 
led the man. 

"We fix dat. Den we 'aul in Greenshore money.” 
Zack, drank afresh to the result of their huge bet- 
ting scheme. 

"Boss” Minot was still a little dubious. "But 
suppose the Fairfield fellows won't accept the 
tip and preach good sportsmanship ?” 

112 


JERRY^S. 

'‘Good point but already covered, son. The 
Fairfield players will never know that they are 
playing on stolen signals until the milk has been 
split. But you were right. That fiery little buck, 
Webb, who is captain of the team, would never 
consent to the use of this er — ^borrowed code. 
He's the dub who raised so much cain about the 
playing of professionals by nearly every school in 
our league last spring and he won out, too. If he 
should get wind of this little scheme, no doubt his 
first move would be to notify Templeton of the 
facts and urge him to get up an entirely new set 
of signals." 

"Dat's so." 

"Mum's the word with Webb." 

"He's a saint as well as a fool, allright." 

Evidently Captain Webb had a reputation to be 
cherished. 

"So I left the main road and got the doctor," 
continued "Hunch." That guy, Raley, Fair- 
field's new coach, is an unknown quantity to 
folks around here, but I have the right dope when 
I say that he is the keenest crook to be found run- 
ning loose. He came to Fairfield from a school 
out in Illinois and last week I received a volumin- 
ous letter from a sedate and well-meaning uncle 
113 


“SKEETER^’ McCOY 

of mine who lives out that way, giving Raley^s 
record, which is some dirty, believe me, and urg- 
ing me to go to the proper authorities and have 
him ousted. Lo, behold the obedient nephew 
‘^So you struck him, did you V* eagerly inquired 
the one answering to the name of ‘‘Bill.'' 

“Exactly. Fell flat, too. Said if he could beat 
Greenshore first crack out of the bottle, he would 
be sure of a long term contract. But he wouldn't 
touch us until my word was out to cover him.” 

“How he gonna make dose boys play 'gainst dose 
signals wit' out ripping the bag open?” challeng- 
ed Zack, who appeared unwilling that the slightest 
detail remain unexplained. 

“Simple, you snail.” Willis, now having taken 
the initiative, felt the importance of his position 
and assumed a condescending tone, even to the 
strangers. “Raley's master mind was quick to 
bridge that brooklet. In preparing for the Green- 
shore game, he is going to give the scrubs a new 
and secret set of signals and this is going to be 
the set. After three weeks of stacking up against 
any one system of play, the system, method, time, 
place, signal and all are bound to be driven through 
the thickest skull and buried deep in the weakest 
brain. I tell you Raley's there !” 

114 


JERRY’S. 

‘Hunch/ I believe that you have the odds 
cornered as far as our chances for success go/’ 
said the larger of the two strangers, as he arose. 
“Send that code to Raley tonight by registered 
mail. Zack and I will post every cent that we can 
raise. You boys better put up a neat little pot, 
too. Lie flat to the grass and everything will come 
out according to Hoyle. Allright, Zack, we’d bet- 
ter hit the trail back to Kingston.” 

With these remarks he stepped quickly to the 
door and tapped softly twice. Immediately it 
swung noiselessly open. Jerry was, as usual, on 
the job. 

“So long, lads. See you at the game.” 

‘^By, by, boys.” 

The door closed and the strangers were gone. 
Behind them was left a group of lads, yet in their 
teens, well launched upon the downward grade. In 
distant homes fond fathers and devoted mothers 
stinted, saved and sacrificed that their boys might 
secure just those benefits and advantages which 
were to themselves denied in days gone by. 

As the shades of evening were being drawn in 
these homes where love reigned supreme — ^where 
hope and ambition for the absent son burned ever 
in the parental breast and were the chief topics of 
115 


‘^SKEETER^^ McCOY 

conversation at the table and about the family 
hearth — a group of cadets, atingle with the poison 
which they had, many for the first time, let pass 
their lips, hurried stumblingly over the back river 
road towards the school and the associates that 
they had so cowardly betrayed. And all the while 
a fiying auto, bearing two men insensible to re- 
morse or shame, was drawing nearer and nearer 
to the confines of Kingston, and the jangle of 
Jerry's cash register knew no pause. Reckless 
and irresponsible boyhood once more had fallen 
victim to the tempting voice and suave manner of 
fallen and shameless manhood. 

But there was one boy in this fast sinking craft, 
who, unknown to his mates, had pulled a rather 
feeble stroke during the entire afternoon and from 
whose eyes, as he now mounted the stone steps of 
the east barracks, shone the light of a new and 
firm resolve. 


116 


CHAPTER VIII. 


The Enemy Serves. 

A S a rule, Roy Templeton was an easy-going 
and calm chap but upon a certain Monday 
night, following a minor foot-ball victory 
over a near-by athletic club, he found it hard to 
concentrate his mind upon the Physics note-book, 
lying open upon the table before him. 

The quietude of the dormitory about him, filled 
with boys at study, oppressed him, he knew not 
why. Though the air without was tinged with 
frost and his room was of an even and comforta- 
ble temperature, he felt an uneasy warmness come 
over him. Off came his lettered sweater and he 
passed his hand over his moist brow. 

'Tunniest experience I have had for sometime,” 
he muttered. ‘T guess I must be getting a case of 
nerves.” Once more he took up the book and be- 
gan to peruse the penciled results of the day^s 
^'lab.” experiments. The outcome was the same. 
The letters and figures were as an unintelligible 
scrawl. Templeton, in his determination to get a 
117 


‘^SKEETER^^ McCOY 

grip upon himself and the subject in hand, caught 
himself in the act of mumbling over and over 
again the written matter before him. 

^'Get off the alley,” he snorted as he dashed the 
unoffending notes half -across the room. ‘‘I just 
can’t do it tonight. I will set my alarm and put in 
a good half hour of “boning” before first call in the 
morning.” Still flushed and feeling over-heated, 
he stepped to the window and lowered the sash. 
The cool night air had an instant quieting effect 
Soberly he looked out across the parade ground 
and then upward at the stars. A listener, close at 
hand, might have detected ever the slightest bit 
of a sigh. Trouble was written upon his brow, yet 
manhood showed plainly in the set of the jaw. It 
was a picture of youth bracing itself and fighting 
against odds, injustice and sadness, knowing not 
why it suffered nor why it bore. 

It would certainly be hard for us to realize just 
what was passing through this boy’s brain as he 
gazed into the night without. The entire Fall ran 
backward through almost a labyrinth of events, 
each of which seemed almost uncanny in its con- 
nection with a common trend which had caused 
him, with his eyes open, yet entirely helpless, to be 
sucked under and submerged beneath a wave of 
118 


THE ENEMY SERVES, 
accusation. But sadder to Templeton even than 
his own unJcjerved estrangement at Headquart- 
ers was the thought that Harry Lewis, hitherto 
always loyal, between himself and whom Temple- 
ton had always felt a bond akin to the fraternal, 
should be in some wise in league with his most bit- 
ter enemies at Greenshore. Just what Lewis' re- 
lation with ‘The Ring" was, Roy did not know, 
but that some relation did exist he had no doubt 
now. Having observed the happenings at the se- 
cluded old mill and studied Harry and his move- 
ments carefully since that eventful night, Temple- 
ton could find no comforting straw at which to 
grasp. Yet to Harry he had given no inkling of 
the haunting suspicions which racked him day and 
night. 

As to his own case, it can truthfully be said that 
Templeton had never quite understood it. With 
that loyalty and trust for Captain Heywood which 
all true Greenshore boys felt burning within them, 
he had endured his lot, asking no leniency and, 
what could not be fathomed by his friends, mak- 
ing no apparent effort to prove his innocence and 
no attempt to bring to justice the real perpetra- 
tors of the misdemeanor which had caused him to 
suffer the humiliation incident to the loss of his 
119 


“SKEETER^^ McCOY 

office. But deeper than the sting caused by the 
loss of that which he had gained through years 
of exemplary life, high ideals, forceful and above- 
board conduct, was the realization that he must 
be frowned upon by that person whom he consid- 
ered in the light of a father. But he did not re- 
sent the attitude of the school head. He under- 
stood perfectly that, all things considered. Cap- 
tain Heywood could take no other view of the mat- 
ter. At times when fortune seemed that she was 
actually taunting him and when the mocking grins 
of Willis and his round-table rekindled and inten- 
sified the flames of resentment within him, he had 
felt that he could no longer keep silent and that 
he must tell Captain Heywood the entire story of 
the carefully laid and nearly concealed strand of 
wire, leading from the bell to “Skeeter's” room. 
Yet, patiently he endured the smart and bided his 
time, keenly aware to the fact that he had no tan- 
gible proof of Willis' guilt. To “Hunch" the mat- 
ter was closed and whatever cowardly fear or 
trepidation might have possessed him for a few 
days after the rumpus, had long since been allay- 
ed. But he reckoned without his host. Temple- 
ton had far from forgotten the injury done him 
and had used every means and every caution at 
120 


THE ENEMY SERVES, 
his disposal to gather evidence against those 
whom he suspected. Very solemnly to himself 
had he vowed that his name should be cleared and 
that punishment as great as he had needlessly 
suffered should be meted out to the deserving 
party or parties. 

Roy had never blamed little McCoy for his un- 
thinking babble which was the direct cause of his 
reduction and this fact had itself kindled a rage in 
his heart when the youngster was so nearly fatal- 
ly injured, because the silent suffering of the in- 
nocent little outcast brought afresh to his mind 
the fact that it was ‘^Skeeter^^ for whom the orig- 
inal plot was laid and that the little fellow had es- 
caped one injustice only to be overpowered by a 
worse one — being sent to Coventry. And then had 
come the accident. Roy always was the victim of 
self-condemnation when he thought of the trials 
of his little pal during the first few weeks of his 
school-boy career. 

That was all ended now. ‘‘Skeeter” had reached 
the convalescent stage where he was a very much 
alive and wide awake invalid. The chair had for 
some days been discarded and, in company with 
‘"Whitey,” who, since the mishap to his little 
"‘roomie,” had assumed the role of guardian angel 
121 


‘TEETER’’ McCOY 

and obedient servant, he made his presence in 
Greenshore’s life very much felt. Nor was his 
vivacity and fast returning animal spirits serious- 
ly hampered or checked by any one in the school. 
As is the very human condition with anyone who 
has been misunderstood and suffered thereby, 
‘‘Skeeter'' suddenly found himself to be a very 
much indulged and privileged individual. From a 
miserable outcast in Coventry he leaped overnight, 
as it were, to such a dizzy plane that even the 
hitherto stern faculty members saw fit only to 
offer a slight rebuke when, in their opinion, 
‘‘Skeeter’s” boyish pranks and red-blooded mis- 
chief had reached a point where a restraining 
hand was necessary. 

Roy thought of all these things as he stood si- 
lent by the window and he rejoiced at the turn 
that ‘"Skeeter's” affairs had taken. ‘‘Skeeter'’ — 
certain that Roy understood the whole matter — 
gleefully basked in his new found popularity on 
the campus and be it said, perhaps somewhat to 
his discredit, that he worked his opportunities 
overtime on several occasions. He realized that 
the official ropes must needs soon begin tighten- 
ing and, like the full-blooded and high-strung boy 
that he was, he chose to lope along and feed on 
122 


THE ENEMY SERVES, 
clover until the first pull on the check was detect- 
ed. 

To Templeton's life at the Academy McCoy's 
warm little friendship, especially in this, the first 
gloomy period of his school days, had added a 
great deal of zest. From a first casual interest, 
such as he would have felt in any bright little 
youngster, his regard had gradually taken on a 
deeper tone, until now the lives of the two were 
closely entwined. Templeton never let an oppor- 
tunity slip to romp with the younger boy and 
many half-holidays and late afternoons were tak- 
en up with long tramps through the nearby woods 
and across the surrounding country. It was upon 
these occasions that Roy had such splendid op- 
portunities to observe closely those qualities 
which had so endeared the child to him. 

Tonight, the former cadet major was downcast 
— melancholy — for the very good reason that he 
felt completely baffled and uncertain as how to pro- 
ceed further in his attempt to fasten the blame 
for the unpleasantness of the past few weeks upon 
those whom he knew were a disgrace to the Acad- 
emy, and who richly deserved to be forced to with- 
draw. This, and the fact that he had failed com- 
pletely in his effort to throw some light upon the 
123 


‘‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

midnight deal between Harry Lewis and the mo- 
torists at Sander's Mill, were the reasons for the 
unnatural restive feeling which had come over 
him and forced him to lay aside his study. 

Not having realized the flight of time while he 
was so deeply engrossed in thought, Templeton 
was surprised when '‘recall from study" came in 
silvery notes, subdued and sweetened by distance, 
from the front promenade of the south barracks. 
Instantly the house about him seemed to awake 
from its silence — the sound of scuffling feet and 
creaking of many shifting chairs came to his ears 
— then a low hum of voices spread, from roof to 
cellar. Boyhood rubbed it's eyes — yawned — and 
came into it's own. But Roy felt none of the re- 
lief and pleasure which usually came to him at 
the beginning of this period of thirty minutes, 
during which visiting was allowed and fellowship 
and freedom from duty were enjoyed. A sudden 
“rough-house" started in the next room and rap- 
idly assumed big dimensions. Instinctively Roy 
made a move towards the door — then stopped. No 
code of honor now urged his interference. He 
was dismantled of all authority or responsibility! 
He clenched his fists at the thought and sank 
wearily into his Morris chair. 

124 


THE ENEMY SERVES. 

Thus he sat, on and on, unconscious that the 
door had softly opened — unconscious that a little 
figure in Greenshore gray was stealthily stealing 
nearer and nearer to the back of the chair. Two 
chubby little hands were gradually extended for- 
ward until they closed with a snap, over Roy's 
eyes. 

With an exclamation of surprise which was half 
a shudder he sat bolt upright in his chair. When 
he saw who his little visitor was a smile of pleas- 
ure beamed upon his face. 

‘‘Hello, little fellow, where did you drop from?" 
Roy's arm was laid tenderly upon “Skeeter's" 
shoulder. 

“Just blew in. Haven't got long to stay, though. 
Left ‘Whitey' securely strapped to the foot of his 
bed." And the mischievous blue eyes fairly danc- 
ed as he looked at his chief, seemingly awaiting 
his approbation. 

“Strapped to his bed, you beggar? What do 
you mean?" 

“Just that. My over-solicitous but well-mean- 
ing young friend, when he found that I was hither- 
bound, insisted that he form a body-guard of one, 
and when I remonstrated in behalf of my natural 
prerogative he waxed obstreperous and so suc- 
125 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

cessfully barred the door-way with his stately 
form that immediate exit upon my part was im- 
possible.” Here he paused for breath. Roy mere- 
ly eyed him, an amused smile playing over his 
face. 

‘'Knowing the ‘frustility' of further discourse, 
and not wishing to create a disturbance which 
would bring the hall monitor to our abode, I seated 
myself conveniently near the foot of my bed and 
allowed my wrath to partially subside. ‘Whitey' 
soon tired of his sentinel duty. In the meantime 
I had secured possession of my trunk strap and 
had it hid under cover of my spread. He comes 
over to the bed and I take him completely by sur- 
prise. I get my arms around his neck and man- 
age to pull him back against the iron cross-rods. 
Oh, how he did rave! In the tussle he got his 
arms back through the bars, and the rest was 
easy. I had the strap noose on him in a jiffy and 
drew the buckle tight. A couple of turns around 
the top rod and three hard knots and the job was 
done. And here I am.” 

“Is that all, or is there another edition ? Really, 
‘Skeeter' youYe getting to be a veritable young 
outlaw. What do you suppose our mutual friend, 
who has been so cruelly handled and bound, will 
126 


THE ENEMY SERVES, 
say when you return? I bet he has polluted the 
air thereabouts until, even now, a vengeful clan 
may be bearing down upon you. Best hadst flee, 
fond friend, before the vanguard arrive.” Roy^s 
eyes twinkled. ‘"Skeeter’s” presence always acted 
as a tonic upon him and never failed to dispel, for 
the while at least, all worry or care. 

‘The only other edition will probably be an ex- 
tra giving the details of my annihilation. I ^spect 
I'll get mine, but I'll die game. Now, honest Injun, 
Roy, I gotta breeze back. The longer I stay the 
more primeval will be the mode of chastisement 
handed out to me.” 

Roy arose, lifted the lid of his trunk and hand- 
ing an oblong pasteboard box to McCoy, said: 
“Take that along with you. It might serve to al- 
leviate the humidity of the atmosphere back in 
number twelve.” And he gave the little boy an 
affectionate departing hug. 

“Skeeter” eagerly took the proffered candy. 
“Thanks. This will go right to the spot with 
‘Whitey,' allright, allright.” With a tight 
squeeze of Templeton's hand, which Roy returned 
with interest, the happy little visitor was gone. 

Roy felt distinctly refreshed and was just about 
127 


‘‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

to take up his neglected study when someone 
knocked softly at his door. 

‘'Come right on through,” called Templeton in 
school-boy vernacular, which came as second na- 
ture, as he swung around in his chair so as to face 
the door. Then came a shock which held him 
speechless. It was “Shad” Thomas who was 
quietly and half guiltily closing the door behind 
him. 

Roy hesitated a moment, uncertain just how to 
receive this member of “Hunch” Willis’ crowd. He 
had never been placed in this position before. The 
“Ring” always gave his quarters a wide berth. 
Now, of all times, he had not expected such a visit. 
Only for a moment, however, did he remain silent. 
Common-sense and a gentleman’s idea of the 
proper course to pursue in such a case triumphed 
over embarrassment and unpleasant surprise. 

“Come in, Thomas. Have a seat, old man,” he 
said, simply. 

“Thanks, but I prefer to stand,” replied the 
nervous boy before him. “Templeton,” he contin- 
ued, “I come here tonight as a friend. Whatever 
my conduct in the past has led you to feel or be- 
lieve, you can rest assured that I am only upon a 
friendly mission tonight. I want you to hear me 
128 


THE ENEMY SERVES, 
out and then if you do doubt my sincerity, I shall 
accept your attitude as final. Will you do it ?” 
There was a tone of pleading in the boy's voice. 

Templeton's eyes had never left his visitor's 
face. They were eyes so steady and alive with 
thought that they seemed to burn through those 
of the other and search the mind behind. 

‘‘Go on,'' he said softly. 

“Sometime ago,'' continued Thomas, evidently 
relieved at securing a hearing but anxious to get 
right down to the object of his unexpected visit, 
“you were told in an anonymous way, that it would 
be wise for you to attend a scheduled meeting at 
Sander's Mill. So—'' 

“Wait a moment, Thomas,'' broke in Roy, in- 
stantly upon his guard. “Without either affirm- 
ing or denying what you say, I would like to ask 
just how you came into possession of these facts ?” 
Inwardly, Templeton was certainly perplexed. On 
account of Harry Lewis' connection with the af- 
fair he had told no one of his night of sleuthings 
How this boy had learned of it he could not for 
the life of him tell, unless — Roy's heart beat fast- 
er as the though struck him — unless Lewis had 
seen his friend trailing him and had told others. 
A few months ago, he would have refused even to 
129 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

entertain such an idea. Now, however, it was dif- 
ferent. 

^‘Because it was I who threw the cartridge out 
to you.” ‘"Shad” spoke in a very subdued tone, 
as if afraid that he might be spied upon by some- 
one without or in the adjoining rooms. His eyes 
constantly roamed toward the door. 

‘‘What ! Do you mean to tell me, Thomas, that 
you, one of my sworn and avowed enemies here in 
school, purposely put me wise to a meeting which 
you had reason to believe in some way concerned 
me, yet at which I evidently was considered an un- 
welcome guest? Did you know the identity of the 
eligible parties to this meeting?” Roy was tak- 
ing no chance and was bent upon securing what- 
ever information the other had in his possession. 

“Yes, I did it. Templeton, my record here, I ac- 
knowledge, is not a very brilliant or spotless one, 
and I do not claim to be worthy of your confidence, 
but I do emphatically and truthfully declare that 
I love Greenshore, and it was for her that I wrote 
that note, and it is for her that I am here tonight. 
As to your last question, I knew that your friend, 
Lewis, was to meet two gamblers from Kingston, 
‘Zack' Marrow and ‘BilF Keith, I believe they 
are called.” 


130 


THE ENEMY SERVES. 

“Thomas, you puzzle me. I cannot but believe 
that you are on the level because you appear to 
have the dope right. But your aim in the whole 
matter is not clear to me. You say that you love 
the old school. Naturally that raises you miles 
above your associates in my estimation. But how 
did you hope, and how do you now hope, to serve 
Greenshore ?” 

“By saving her from over-whelming defeat at 
the hands of Fairfield on Thanksgiving Day.” The 
answer was quickly and feelingly given. 

“What do you mean?” demanded Roy. “How 
could that meeting so affect our foot ball team? 
You must remember that Harry Lewis is a mem- 
ber of the eleven and would be quick to detect the 
slightest plot against Greenshore upon the part of 
those gamblers.” He spoke confidently, as if no 
doubt as to Lewis' loyalty and integrity had found 
a lodging place within his mind. 

“I mean, Templeton, that Lewis has given you 
the double-cross and that the Fairfield team is 
being trained already to break up every play you 
have on your list. Every signal called by Cohill 
on Thanksgiving Day will be instantly understood 
and played against.” 

Templeton, who had for weeks past been fight- 
131 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

ing just this conclusion from his mind, now knew 
that his worst fears were to be realized. 

had expected as much, Thomas. But go on. 
Tell me whatever else you know which will sub- 
stantiate your statements. You must realize that 
the case must be made as clear as day before I 
can steel myself into accepting the fact that Harry 
has played false to his school and to his friends.'' 
Roy's voice sounded as that of a man suddenly 
grown old with care. 

‘T think I understand how you feel, Templeton, 
and" — there was almost a quaver in the speaker's 
voice — “I envy those who are fortunate enough to 
enjoy and be backed by such a friendship. I did 
not relish this interview. I knew that it would 
pain you but I could not keep silent and see our 
eleven slaughtered through trickery and not 
through superiority." Then ‘‘Shad" earnestly 
proceeded to tell in as few words as possible all 
that he knew — how for a financial inducement, 
Lewis had sold his team's secret signals — ^how 
those signals had been transferred to Fairfield's 
crooked coach — the ingenious scheme by which 
that coach could profit without arousing the ire of 
his clean-playing charges — and, finally, how the 
Kingston experts planned to clean up the “book- 
132 


THE ENEMY SERVES, 
ies” by placing their every cent upon Fairfield to 
win. 

The ’Varsity captain sat silent as if unconscious 
that the other had stopped speaking. No passion 
was written upon his face — just the agonizing 
lines of infinite pain and utter dejection and weari- 
ness. With eyes, languid and heavy, he turned to 
Thomas. 

‘Tt that all?” 

‘Tes.” 

‘Thomas, I am glad that you came tonight. I 
owe you a debt of gratitude. You have proven 
true to your school and have accomplished it with- 
out involving or in any way betraying the par- 
ticular set with which you are at present associat- 
ed. I admire you for that more than I can tell you. 
Stick by your colors as long as you fly them. I 
won’t ask you to cease bearing your present stand- 
ard. You, alone, must decide that, but since your 
visit here tonight I feel that I should like to know 
you better.” 

“Thank you, Templeton. And now I must go. 
‘Tattoo’ cannot be far off. Good night.” He 
stepped a trifle nearer to his host. 

“Good night, Thomas” — and to the latter’s sur- 
prise and pleasure he extended his hand — “I shall 
133 


‘‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

consider and guard all that you have told me to- 
night as strictly confidential. And once more, 
thank you !” A strong pressure of the hand ended 
the interview and Thomas, with a final word of 
farewell, was gone. 

The blow had fallen ! The burning shame of it 
all crushed and tortured, all through that weary 
night, the chief into whose circle had come proofs 
of treason to himself and his cause — a treason so 
foul that a courier from the camp of the enemy 
had felt honor-bound to aid in the fortification 
against its enactment. 


134 


CHAPTER IX. 


Bound By Loyalty. 

O H, the heart-aches and the despair caused 
by friendship proven false ! In this wide 
world whose constant rebuffs and ever- 
increasing cares and sorrows daily try the courage 
and consistency of men, how sweet a thing is 
sentiment — ^how divine a thing is loyalty! How 
bare must needs our lives be if along the paths of 
our existence no sheltering haven of love and 
cheer tends to break the monotony of toil and 
strife! With what numbing cruelty comes the 
blow which severs one tie of love — one bond of 
faith ! 

Oh, our school days — those days and years 
which glide so swiftly yet so joyfully along — those 
moments when our hearts beat rhythmically with 
an overflow of good-will towards all our fellows — 
with love and fldelity for our chums — ^that period 
during which the studding of fellowship is hewn 
— the filaments of character strengthened — the 
bulwarks of manhood reared — the strings of life’s 
135 


“SKEETER” McCOY 

harp of melody put atune ! Then, if ever, the halo 
of sincerity and faith covereth all. And we ac- 
cept and revel in the sunshine and the sun-set, un- 
willing that any cloud of doubt should mar our 
sky so blue, or our horizon so beauteous. 

Templeton had always been regarded by his fel- 
lows as a lad with whose emotions — emotions 
deep and true — one could not afford to tamper. 
To every acquaintance he offered a hearty hand- 
shake and a genial smile. To each of his friends 
he offered the support and devotion of a nature 
intensely sincere and absolutely free from guile. 
To him loyalty called for fidelity to everything and 
every person near and dear to him. 

Manfully had he withstood the shock of Thomas’ 
message. Courageously he fought the problem 
out within the solitude of his own room upon that 
eventful and uneasy night. Nor was it until the 
stars had begun their retreat and the first feeble 
awakening sounds drifted faintly to him from the 
distant town that he made his decision. Desper- 
ately he had allowed the battle between friendship 
and duty to be waged within his mind and breast. 
Duty had won. Still retaining his affection for 
Harry Lewis — reluctant to the point of mental 
anguish that his friend’s shame be whispered to 
136 


BOUND BY LOYALTY, 
anyone, he prepared to carry out the dictates of 
his conscience and the verdict of his better judg- 
ment. 

At recall from quarters, following morning in- 
spection, Roy hurried to the room of his coach 
and told the entire story. 'Tlush’^ was aghast 
with consternation and surprise. 

''What do you know about that ! A pretty ket- 
tle of fish,” he stormed as he paced nervously up 
and down the length of the room. "Just as we had 
the boys working like a charm, everybody in swell 
condition and the big game only two weeks off. I 
declare, boy, I do not know how to act.” 

"It is a bad mess, sir,” Roy acknowledged. 

"Of course, I could notify the Principal over at 
Fairfield but that would do no material good — 
simply kick up a bad rumpus and make innocent 
parties feel badly. It would also kill interest in 
the game.” The case called for instant action and 
"Plush” was looking at the matter from every an- 
gle. Never had Roy seen him so thoroughly dis- 
gusted and out of sorts. He fairly frothed from 
the mouth. 

"That is right, sir.” 

"Who would have thought it?” went on the 
irate man. "It seems impossible that Harry Lewis 
137 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

would turn such a dastardly trick. I considered 
him one of my right-hand men and in line for next 
yearns captaincy. What the deuce do you suppose 
got into the boy? Is he sore about anything?'' 

^‘Not that I have noticed. I thought that he 
took a great deal of interest in the practice yester- 
day and put a lot of pep in it, too." 

“I thought as much. But there is a nigger in 
the wood-pile somewhere and according to your 
own observations and the story told by that 
Thomas boy, Lewis must be the gent's name." 

‘T am afraid that is the case, sir." Roy spoke 
with exceeding sorrow and regret in his voice. ^T 
have tried to think otherwise but after what 
Thomas has said I fear there can be no mistake." 

‘Tlush" drew his lips so tight that they were 
bloodless. ‘Tf I only could get my hands on that 
snake, Raley, I'd teach him the system we play to 
down in these parts. The miserable wretch! I 
could easily enough have him ousted but it would 
ruin the game. Might even cause it to be called 
off." 

‘'But isn't there some way in which we can still 
block him, coach ?" The absolute hopelessness of 
the situation had not struck Roy until now. He 
had been used to banking on “Plush" and report- 
138 


BOUND BY LOYALTY, 
ed the case, confident that the Greenshore coach 
could prescribe a cure. 

^‘Not from the other end. I am also afraid that 
it is too late to do much here. Let's see" — and he 
began softly counting to himself — ‘‘nine days be- 
fore the game and only eight practice days — team 
should have nothing to worry about during last 
four days — ^just keep in condition. No. Roy, 
laddie, it's too late to change our code. It will be 
better to stick to the signals we have and trust to 
better condition and higher class.” ^ 

“But, Coach, they'd stop us before — ” 

“Maybe they will and maybe they won't. At 
least it's our best bet. I will wait until the last 
afternoon at practice and give the boys a couple 
of easy emergency plays after it is too late for 
Lewis to send them to Raley. That might help a 
little.” 

“Shall you tell the team that we have been sold 
out !” Roy queried. 

“Not on your life. It would never do for them 
to know in advance that Fairfield was prepared to 
block every move. It would take the heart and 
pep out of every man on the squad. Not one word, 
Roy. You've got to play the real man's part in 
this mix-up. On you I am banking to pull this 
139 


“SKEETER’^ McCOY 

game out of the fire in spite of internal treach- 
ery. You must not breathe one word that you 
have learned. Keep up the jolliest sort of outside 
attitude of confidence and play the game of your 
life that day. After the first half we’ll get to- 
gether and compare notes and maybe plan an 
eleventh hour move. Can you do it, boy?” The 
coach’s hand was now upon his captain’s shoulder 
and the keen blue eyes burned into him. 

‘T will do my best, sir.” Roy felt keenly the re- 
sponsibility laid at his door. 

"‘Fine ! I feel sure you will. And now run along 
and worry as little as you can. Think of the glory 
in winning in spite of the dirty work. And we’ll 
do it, boy !” "Tlush” actually had cooled down to 
the extent of being optimistic. At least he at- 
tempted to allow Templeton to carry that idea 
back to his room. 

But Roy was not yet quite ready to leave. He 
looked hesitatingly at his coach. ‘‘Shall you play 
Harry ?” he asked. 

“Yes. He wouldn’t dare to double-cross us on 
the field. Besides, I do not want Raley to know 
that we are wise to him until after the game has 
been played. Then watch his Westward flight.” 

Roy departed upon gaining this information. As. 

140 


BOUND BY LOYALTY, 
he hurried across to his room, anxious not to be 
late to morning prayers, he marvelled to himself, 
how shrewd and loyal to Greenshore was her ath- 
letic coach, the last characteristic so uncommon 
among professional coaches and trainers. There 
was a something about “Plush” and his life at 
Greenshore which testified unreservedly of his 
love for the school and which caused everyone who 
came in direct contact with him to share that love, 
A “Big G” victory was not viewed by him as mere- 
ly a professional triumph — a defeat bit far deeper 
than a professional set-back. “Plush” was 
eighteen karat Greenshore and Greenshore was 
ninety-nine per cent “Plush.” 

All the forenoon Roy did his best to concentrate 
his mind upon his studies but found it impossible. 
His thoughts would go back into the many dis- 
turbing events of the past weeks. The case of 
Harry Lewis had completely stunned him and 
many times the professors cast wondering glances 
in his direction. Once in Geometry recitation 
room, Roy, in the midst of explaining his assign- 
ment upon the board, murmured something about 
“tangent to signals,” and was promptly told by 
Lieutenant Word to take his seat. 

Having two vacant periods during the afternoon 
141 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

session, Templeton very wisely took a nap. There- 
fore, he felt somewhat refreshed and less care- 
worn as he made his way to the locker-room in the 
g3nnnasium. *Tlush'^ and quite a few of the squad 
were already on hand and nearly dressed. 

Answering with mustered up spirit the affec- 
tionate greetings of his team-mates, he began 
immediately to strip, without stopping for his 
usual chat with the men. By the laughing and 
joshing going on all over the room Roy knew that 
no inkling of the true state of affairs had reached 
them. He was inwardly thankful for this. ‘Tlush,” 
grand old general of many a school-boy battle, 
smiled and patted and fumed about his boys like 
a mother hen with her brood. 

Bending over to lace up his shoe, Roy shot a 
furtive glance to the opposite comer of the room 
where he knew Lewis’ locker to be. Harry was 
just pulling on his dark blue sweater upon the 
chest of which was emblazoned a huge white ‘‘G.” 
Templeton winced. Catching his friend’s eye, 
Harry winked good-naturedly and turned to take 
down his head-gear from a locker hook. Temple- 
ton resumed his lacing, absolutely at a loss to un- 
derstand the other boy’s unshadowed countenance 
and apparent ease of manner. 

142 


BOUND BY LOYALTY. 

That afternoon’s practice was one of the motft 
gruelling of the entire Fall. A long scrimmage be- 
tween the ’Varsity and “scrubs” tried the mettle 
and condition of every man on the field. Never 
had the ’Varsity looked better. Every man seem- 
ed in the pink of condition except, possibly, Roy, 
who fumbled frequently, a fault which he seldom 
showed. “Plush” saw all and understood. Dur- 
ing a halt, called as a breathing spell, the man 
squeezed his captain’^s hand in passing : 

“Steady, boy!” he whispered. 

Throughout the entire afternoon, Harry Lewis 
shattered the “scrub” line in heroic style and dis- 
played a quality of “pep” calculated to be declared 
genuine by the most skeptical. But coach and cax>- 
tain had seen and heard too much to have their 
fears so easily allayed. However, it must be said 
that there were moments during that afternoon 
when the brilliancy of Lewis’ attack and his con- 
stant : “Lookout, Fairfield, Greenshore is on fire I’^ 
as the ’Varsity swept the helpless scrubs aside and 
ploughed through for score after score, caused 
both momentarily to drop suspicion and judgment 
and allow their hearts to again warm and glow 
with love and respect for Harry. 

Roy and “Plush’ were the last ones to leave the 
143 


^‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

locker room after the shower and rub-down. Each 
was anxious to have a word with the other. As 
the last straggler disappeared through the en- 
trance the coach turned to the waiting lad and 
asked in subdued tones : 

‘‘Well, boy, what do you make of it all?’’ 

“Some practice, coach. We sure do look good,” 
Templeton answered, knowing all the while that 
“Plush” had referred to a different matter. 

“I know — dandy — some bearcats — ^but I had 
reference to — ah — Lewis.” The man was almost 
impatient at Roy’s evasive answer. 

“I’m stumped, coach. Harry is either innocent 
or he’s the slickest crook this side of Sing Sing.” 
There was almost hope in the boy’s voice but it 
died out immediately the coach began to speak : 

, “Must be the last, Roy. We know our dope is 
straight. You saw the first act, the second was 
rehearsed to you by one behind the screen and we 
must ring down the curtain for a grand climax. 
Do you doubt Thomas’ story?” 

“No sir. I know it was a straight tip. I should 
have refused to believe it, considering the source 
and feeling that I knev/ Harry, had I not, as you 
say, viewed the first act.” 

“Then there is nothing left us to choose or do 
144 


BOUND BY LOYALTY, 
but to disregard all efforts at concealing guilt 
which we know to exist, devil may care how clever 
they are, and go by the program arranged this 
morning. But Roy — ''and the old warrior’s 
troubled face took on a look of even deeper con- 
cern — "you simply must forget the whole dirty 
business. Your fumbling gave you away today. 
Get a grip upon yourself — plenty of sleep — and 
remember that you have but one thing to live for 
during the next ten days — the taking of Fairfield’s 
scalp. You’re the pivot. Now keep oiled, temper- 
ed and ready. Do you hear me?” The intensity 
of the man’s feeling caused his velvety voice to 
break in a queer little way. 

"Yes sir. All I’ve got will be out there fighting 
on Thanksgiving Day, Coach.” No listener would 
have wagered to the contrary. 

"Of course you will you — you boy ! "Plush” 

used his one pet word of endearment — a word 
which expressed a world of faith, respect and love. 

Though it was dusk and call to quarters had 
long since been sounded, Templeton felt no com- 
punction of conscience as he strolled back to bar- 
racks, arm in arm with his coach. Foot-ball men 
were invariably excused for absence from quart- 
145 


‘‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

ers in the afternoon and there was still some time 
before mess formation. 

From the steps of Lanier Hall, they could hear 
jubilant young voices raised in the harmony of 
the most stirring of all the Blue and White’s bat- 
tle songs, set to the tune of “Aul Lang Syne:” 

‘‘Oh, Fairfield ’tis no use for you 
To bluster and to brag 
For in the Blue and White you’ve met 
An eleven pointed snag.” 

Gradually, other groups took up the cherished 
refrain. Stronger and stronger in volume it grew 
— now slightly modulated — now swelling out in a 
rolling wave of defiance, as if the battle were al- 
ready on. 

Boy and man stopped. Not until the song was 
finished and the campus was again wrapt in si- 
lence did they move. Roy winced beneath the 
grip of the hand upon his arm. Then, both feeling 
exhilarated by the tonic just administered, they 
walked slowly on towards the building. No word 
of parting was spoken at the entrance. With a 
hand grip of perfect understanding, each turned 
his way, busy with the same thoughts. 

146 


BOUND BY LOYALTY. 

As Templeton drew on the light in his room 
and gazed fondly about his cozy quarters, he felt 
an overpowering love for Greenshore swell up 
within his breast — a love which sent little squad- 
rons of creepy quivers up his spine and brought 
the mist to his eyes and all but a sob to his throat. 
A photo on the mantel — a gilded and marked base 
ball, relic of a memorable struggle in bygone 
freshmen days — the large, wavy streamers of blue 
and white above his door — the hundred and one 
little things which told of the joy and breadth of 
his school-boy life — all intensified the emotion 
loosened by the campus melody below. 

What matter if across his sea of blue a few 
breakers had reared their form? Through these 
he would fight, confident, joyous and secure in the 
possession of riches which no source but Green- 
shore could give. His own personal trials took on 
a miniature form before the realization which 
came flooding and surging over him that now, as 
never before, his school was asking mutely re- 
compense for the bounties of the past. Confident, 
she stood, on the brink of disaster, all unaware of 
treachery which had taken root within the very 
vitals of her machinery of attack — ^her bulwark 
of defense. 


147 


^^SKEETER^’ McCOY 

A group picture hanging above his study table 
caught his eye. A jolly, boyish face in the fore- 
ground laughed out at him. 

“Ah, Harry,'' he whispered, “I love you well, but 
I love the old school better. How — oh how — 
could you do it?" For a full minute he gazed at 
the likeness of the friend gone wrong. Then 
Greenshore's champion threw back his shoulders, 
switched off his light and hurried down to mess 
formation. 

The week wore on. Never before had “Plush" 
so relentlessly driven his charges up and down the 
battle-scarred old academy field. When the last 
hard scrimmage was over and the self-sacrificing 
scrubs were told that their work was done for the 
year, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. These 
second-string men who had endured weeks of hard 
training and bruises, all that the 'Varsity might 
be moulded into a better combination, were not 
dismissed without words of gratitude and com- 
mendation from the man they served and loved. A 
few of the most promising and fortunate ones 
would be allowed the privilege of appearing on the 
side-lines as 'Varsity subs with slight chance of 
entering the fray. For the majority, the reward 
merely consisted of a tremendous pride in the 
148 


BOUND BY LOYALTY, 
achievements of the machine which their sacrifices 
had helped to build and perfect. For the regulars, 
only the lightest of signal drill was in store for the 
remaining days before the annual classic. 

At last came that Wednesday afternoon when 
‘Tlush"' sent his charges early from the field and 
only allowed them to linger in the locker room un- 
til he had given them his final few terse but opti- 
mistic remarks. Then he unceremoniously chased 
them out, with orders for early retiring and quiet 
reserving of energy. 

Returning, early that night, from the village, 
he stopped at the foot of the slope and breathed in 
the bracing night air in huge gulps. Only the 
twinkling stars above cast their pale glow over the 
arena of tomorrow. 

Before the eyes of the man standing silent there 
in the night, bundled up in a huge protecting coat, 
floated a panorama of events, each pulsating with 
traditions of the past. Sweet indeed were these 
memories of days when long since grown men had 
given him the best of their boyhood efforts. Rich 
was the turfed field before him in victory and the 
occasional bitter of defeat had only served to pre- 
serve the nectar of the more abundant triumphs. 

149 


‘‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

From out that span of years, no unharmonious 
voice challenged the methods or deeds of the Blue 
and White. Standing for the finest of American 
ideals, she had proudly unfurled her colors to the 
breezes and, in victory or defeat, they waved on 
high, respected and honored without and champ- 
ioned and loyally guarded within. 

Perhaps it was the crispness of a gently rising 
breeze which caused ‘Tlush” to so suddenly come 
out of his reverie, pull the coat collar together 
about his throat and begin his ascent of the little, 
rolling hillside. 


150 


CHAPTER X. 


Put to The Test. 

T he vast assemblage on Academy Field was 
hushed and expectant. The hundreds of lit- 
tle flags, alternating in clusters between 
black and red and blue and white, were listless and 
still. Scarcely a sound could be heard — only the 
occasional honking of auto horns as belated spec- 
tators sought places of vantage about the grim, 
freshly limed battle ground. 

It was the calm before the storm — a storm soon 
to break — with all its clash of boyish energy and 
boyish enthusiasm. To all present, old and young 
alike, this was an occasion of importance — this 
contest upon the outcome of which rested the 
hopes and yearnings, yes — fears, of two worthy 
foes and their contingents of followers and sympa- 
thizers. Each Thanksgiving Day witnessed the 
same struggle — ^fought out to the bitter end — 
terminating in riotous joy for one and crushing 
gloom for the other principal to the encounter. 

/n 151 


‘^SKEETER’^ McCOY 

Fairfield Institute and Greenshore Academy- 
had been rivals of the keenest yet the cleanest 
sort ever since the establishment of the latter 
school by Captain Heywood back in the nineties. 
During all these years the foot ball series had 
proved a nip-and-tuck affair with Fairfield, at the 
present time, leading with two more victories than 
had been chalked up by her rival. 

For each school this game was the most highly 
cherished of all on their respective schedules. The 
other contests were looked upon as merely prac- 
tice games — ^putting the two elevens in shape for 
this final fight for triumph. While defeat is al- 
ways distasteful, a season of losses to other teams 
was always voted successful if the verdict was 
won upon Thanksgiving Day. 

The weather man had been more than kind in 
setting the stage for this gala day. The air had 
just enough edge to keep one’s blood on the go and 
the November sun made the use of overcoats and 
wraps unnecessary. Above, an unclouded sky 
beamed. 

Out upon the field proper, the last final acts be- 
fore the whistle were taking place. The two 
elevens, unusually well matched in regard to size 
and weight, had run through their snappy signal 
152 


PUT TO THE TEST. 

drills and were now huddled in blanketed groups 
upon the opposite sides of the field. 

In mid-field, Captains Webb and Templeton, 
rival leaders, shook hands and immediately en- 
gaged in conversation with a broad-shouldered 
athletic looking young man in high roll-neck 
sweater, evidently the referee. A coin twinkled 
in the sun-light. The three bent over it as it 
struck the ground. The Fairfield followers went 
wild as the turn of fate and fortune became evi- 
dent, for it was Captain Webb’s muscular should- 
ers which received the official’s pat of hand. 

A long, shrill, trebly call and, throwing blankets 
and sweaters aside, the two sets of young school- 
boy gladiators pranced upon the field, amid a din 
and roar of welcome from their supporters. The 
Fairfield players quickly spread out to their posi- 
tions and made ready to receive the kick-off. As 
they tightened their belts and carefully placed 
their head-gears into position, Captain Webb 
traveled back and forth among his men, cheerily 
slapping them upon the shoulders. An ideal young 
leader he, loved by his own and respected and 
feared by his opponents. 

On the forty-yard line, Roy Templeton was 
carefully arighting the new pigskin upon a little 
153 


‘‘SKEETER^' McCOY 

heap of earth. Twice he straightened up and 
backed away a pace or two and twice he came 
back and altered the position of the ball. 

On the east side of the gridiron about opposite 
the center of the playing field, sitting comfort- 
ably and confidently back among the cushions of 
their little black roadster car, Zack and Gambler 
Bill serenely watched the preliminary movements 
of the lad whom they had elected to ‘‘fix.” Con- 
temptuous grins covered their faces as they slyly 
winked at one another. 

“ ‘Pears to be pertickler,” muttered the hunch- 
back. 

“Uh — ^huh.” Biirs eyes were glued upon the 
Greenshore captain who now stepped back and 
glanced quickly at the line of men to the right and 
left of him, all set for the initial charge down upon 
the foe. 

There was a moment’s cessation in the tremen- 
dous cheering from the two schools as the referee 
lifted his arm above his head, to gain the attention 
of the players. 

“Are you ready, Captain Templeton?” 

“Ready!” 

“Are you ready. Captain Webb?” 

“Let’s go.” ; , " 


154 


PUT TO THE TEST. 

Again came the sharp blast. In obedience to its 
order, Templeton, advancing a few feet ahead of 
his fellows, swung his right foot. Far down the 
field the ball went, revolving end over end. Behind 
it went charging eleven husky lads and rushing 
just as determinedly toward it were eleven other 
athletes and under the right arm of one of them 
was tightly clasped the precious ball. Not until 
the fifty yard line was reached did a white and 
blue jersey find an opening large enough to fling 
itself through and bring the flying pair of red and 
black legs to ground. The battle was on. 

Quickly the two teams lined up — came a short, 
sharply called series of signals from Fairfield’s 
stout little quarter-back — and the four red jerseys 
of the visitor’s back-field were hurled against 
Greenshore’s right wing. Right nobly did the 
blue-clad backs lunge to meet the attack but 
when the dust had cleared away, the ball was seen 
to lie at least four yards nearer Greenshore’s goal 
line. Another experimental dash, aimed this time 
at the left of the line, was nearly as successful. 

‘Third down, three yards to go,” sang out the 
referee as he stepped clear of the line of comba- 
tants. 


155 


^‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

On the west side of the field, resting his weight 
upon one knee, plucking incessantly at little blades 
of grass within his reach, knelt 'Tlush.” In one 
corner of his mouth was a twig and upon this he 
was nervously and almost savagely chewing. No 
condemnation was in his eye — ^just the light of 
battle and the cunning of a genius who would foil 
those who had encroached upon his work-shop. 
No move upon the field before him did he miss. 
Nor did he frown more than slightly when a dou- 
ble pass behind the line so threw his charges off 
their guard that a Fairfield runner skirted the end 
for fifteen yards. Too often had he seen the ene- 
my make a whirlwind start only to be put to utter 
rout during the middle or fag end moments of 
play. But today “Plush’' was doing more than 
watching for weak points in his own machine — 
more than hastily devising ways and means to 
check the strength of the opponents as such 
should become evident. He was looking for some- 
thing — a something which he knew could not as 
yet niake it’s appearance — ^because Fairfield held 
the ball. 

Other eyes than those of the coach were focus- 
ed intently upon the two struggling teams upon 
the field. Up on the slope, somewhat apart from 
156 


PUT TO THE TEST. 

the main cheering section, several members of the 
“King'' stood and no move escaped their vigilant 
gaze. No word did they speak. Discretion de- 
manded that a shammed look of gloom should be 
their exterior front. Within their hearts they 
treacherously glowed with the warmth of satis- 
faction and elation at Fairfield's initial display of 
power. Yet, they too, were expectantly awaiting 
the same “something" ^s was the kneeling man be- 
low. 

“Now !" half breathed “Hunch" Willis in the ear 
of “Boss" Minot. Out upon the field, the ball had 
changed hands, Greenshore coming into posses- 
sion of it as a result of a fumble back of Fairfield's 
line. 

In the little roadster car, two men leaned intent- 
ly forward and the plucking of grass upon the side 
line ceased. 

“Buzz" Cohill's snappily barked signals were 
easily heard by everyone upon the field, so tense 
was the stillness. A slight alteration in the posi- 
tions of the cadets' backfield men — a few addition- 
al numbers from Cohill and Greenshore's first of- 
fensive play was in motion, a steam roller play di- 
rected at the enemy's left wing with “old reliable" 
Charley Buck carrying the ball. Fairfield's lanky 
157 


^‘SKEETER” McCOY 

flanker unhesitatingly flung himself against the 
closely knit interference and shattered it but at 
the same time was himself hurled aside and down. 
Buck, with Templeton still running unscathed at 
his side, was surprised to find no bristling half to 
block his way. Desperately the visitor's full-back 
leaped to meet the two runners. He and Temple- 
ton crashed to the ground but on sped Buck — 
ten — ^fifteen — twenty — twenty-five — thir — no, not 
quite. The alert red and black quarter would not 
be denied and by a beautiful tackle from the side 
brought the flying cadet to earth. 

Shrieks of joy came from the slope and from 
every section of the field the Greenshore banners 
were frantically waved. Then, at the signal of the 
frenzied cheer-leader, the long, rumbling cadet 
^‘locomotive" cheer was rolled forth and to it was 
appended three ear-splitting “Bucks." 

Lining up quickly, every man upon his toes. Co- 
hill slammed Templeton into the line. This time 
the enemy offered greater resistance and Roy was 
able to grind through for but a scant four yards. 
A forward pass to “Schrimp" Ladson, totally un- 
expected at this juncture, called for a first down. 

Hurrying his men into position. Cohill glanced 
quickly towards the cherished goal-line ahead. 

158 


PUT TO THE TEST. 

Thirty-five yards to go! ‘'Signals! 129 — 4 — 6 
---7~REPEAT!~129---4--.6---7--X.” Templeton 
struck the right side of the line with all of his one 
hundred and sixty-five pounds rigid. Little pri- 
mary defense was there to stop him. Harry Lewis 
had ripped open a splendid hole and through this 
the captain plunged — ^tore through two sections of 
the secondary defense and finally was laid low by 
the opposing full-back. But the ball was on Fair- 
field's twenty-four yard line. 

No wonder that the cheers fairly shook the 
ground — little wonder that “Hunch" Willis and 
Company felt quite a diminution in their buoyancy 
and confidence — scant wonder that anxiety occu- 
pied both seats of the roadster on the east side of 
the gridiron. 

But the fears of these cowardly hearts were 
not so immediately to become a reality. Jack 
Snowden, being called upon for the first time to 
serve his colors, was over-anxious to the point of 
nervousness and fumbled Cohill's snappy pass 
with the result that Bigelow, Fairfield's left half, 
recovered the ball. The Red and Black sympathiz- 
ers were wild with joy at this unexpected turn in 
affairs. The arms of their cheer-leaders worked 
up and down like pistons and a continuous roar of 
159 


^‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

enthusiasm was the result. Stillness reigned upon 
the slope. 

Though given what appeared to be a new lease 
on life, the minds of the two gamblers, Bill and 
Zack, were far from being at ease. Greenshore 
had held the ball long enough to make it apparent 
beyond a doubt that the carefully laid plans of the 
‘‘Ring,’' Raley, and the two sharks, had somehow 
gone astray. Just how the slip had occurred none 
of this fair company could tell, but each realized 
that all was not well. 

To Templeton the first few minutes of play had 
proven bewildering in more ways than one. He 
had expected each play called by Cohill to meet al- 
most insurmountable resistance. Yet just the re- 
verse had taken place and, in several instances, 
the spot aimed at was left so unguarded as to 
make long gains ridiculously easy. 

Try as he might, as he brushed the dust and 
perspiration from his brow, he could not fathom 
the situation. To add to his muddled state of mind 
was the fact that Harry Lewis himself had thus 
far put up a slashing game and had twice opened 
up holes large enough, as “Plush'' would have said, 
“to drive a mule team through." Gradually, the 
hope grew upon him that all the story had not 
160 


PUT TO THE TEST. 

been told — that Harry was the loyal boy that he 
had previously thought him to be. With the birth 
of this hope, a wild exhilaration took possession 
of him and again he was the confident, eager lead- 
er, ready to carry his colors, against any odds, 
safely through to victory. Which spirit was in- 
stantly seen and caught by his men. 

Fairfield again f»ttempted to start off with a 
rush. No premonition of disaster was shared by 
them. Raley had mentioned nothing of his crook- 
ed plans — had only drilled them for weeks against 
a set code of signals used daily by his second team 
— ^basing on the hope and belief that intuition and 
force of habit would make his men unconsciously 
play against this style of attack if suddenly they 
were thus confronted. Therefore, looking for no 
odds in their favor, willing to test speed against 
speed, brawn against brawn, and abide by what- 
ever freakish turns of fate swung their way, these 
clean young fellows had the same amount of confi- 
dence that they had carried into the contest. Not 
so with Raley. Above his weazened little eyes his 
shaggy brows were contracted in a deep frown as 
he nervously elbowed his way up and down the 
lines. A knifing fear wormed itself within his 
breast. 


161 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

‘Tlush” had merely shifted the twig in his 
teeth but about the corners of his mouth a slight, 
self-satisfied smile was evident. He was non- 
plussed, as was Roy, but felt that more than a 
mere football decision would be reached ere the 
holiday sun had set. 




1G2 


CHAPTER XI. 


Foiled. 

F AIRFIELD’S renewed attack met sterner op- 
position than hitherto and only by the 
use of a neat forward pass were they able 
to register a first down. Their quarter was a wise 
little general, however, and very artfully proceeded 
to mix trick plays, forward tosses and straight 
football in so rapid and bewildering a series of on- 
slaughts that the cadet eleven slowly but surely 
gave ground. 

Once — twice — the lines were moved. The ball 
was now a few yards past mid-field and still the 
enemy charged on with ever increasing determi- 
nation. On a double pass behind the line, in which 
play the Red and Black full, quarter and right half 
feinted an attack upon the right wing of the cadet 
line, Martin, Greenshore’s left end, was com- 
pletely ^‘sucked in,” and left his post unguarded. 
Captain Webb, at left half, bending low to escape 
notice but waiting motionless until the play was 
well under way, took the ball from his flying right 
163 


^‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

half and skirted the weakened cadet flank for fif- 
teen yards. 

Then a queer thing happened — a little incident, 
the true meaning of which Templeton entirely 
overlooked, but which was closely understood by 
his stoic coach across the field. A Fairfield sub- 
stitute rushed suddenly upon the field, reported to 
the official, bent his head close to the ear of his 
quarterback, and then took the vacant position in 
the line. Instantly the Red and Black backfield 
aimed its full force at the right of the line. Harry 
Lewis’ tackle was the objective point. 

Never was graver mistake made — ^never did 
schoolboy linesman crash against and through his 
opponent with such maniacal fury — a veritable 
projecture of indignation. For the entire move 
had been instantly understood by him. Now was 
the time to forever prove to Raley and the gamb- 
lers that he was not the vile creature whom they 
had so foolishly allowed themselves to believe him 
to be. So the coach who would win by any means 
still figured that he, Lewis, would step obediently 
aside and make old Greenshore’s humiliation pos- 
sible? Hadn’t his crooked mind caught the fact 
that the carefully planned signal scheme had for 
164 


FOILED. 

some reason failed to work? Didn’t he even sus- 
pect the cause ? 

All of this flashed through his mind as he drove 
his head and shoulders into the mass of churning 
feet which were now upon him. His two arms 
groped outward, locked, and he felt as if his frame 
had been shattered as the frustrated mass came 
down upon him. It was Templeton’s hand which 
lifted him to his feet. 

‘Tine, Harry, fine!” And from the captain’s 
( yes there shone a light which the other could not 
but understand and which sent him <"harged and 
alert back to his position, eager for more. 

Roy glanced across the field at his chief. 
“Plush” merely shifted the twig. 

The visitors next tried a short end run but this 
time Martin was out to redeem himself. A yard 
was lost in the attempt. A delayed pass, directed 
towards “Dutch” Condon, proved as futile and the 
slope again took heart and emitted intermittent 
challenges and exhortations. 

Expecting a punt, Templeton and “Buzz” drox)- 
ped back. But they had been outguessed. From 
kick formation, a long, quick pass to the right end 
was attempted — attempted, that was all. With 
that intuition which distinguishes the born 
165 


“SKEETER” McCOY 

player from the product of the mold, Jack Snow- 
den, quick of brain, long of limb and fleet of foot, 
caught the first indicating sign of a ruse and 
swung out to meet the emergency. With all his 
muscles called into play he leaped upward. The 
intercepted ball smacked into his hands and he was 
virtually running when his feet struck the ground. 
Not until Fairfield’s ten-yard line was reached was 
he bowled over. 

With the prospect of a score in sight, the joy on 
the slope was unbounded. The panting players of 
both teams had barely come up from behind when 
the whistle signified the termination of the first 
quarter. 

The referee carried the ball to the other end of 
the field and placed it upon the ten yard line. An 
old negro trainer came out from the Fairfield 
bench with a bucket of water. 'Tiush” himself 
carried the pail to his boys. Not a drop were they 
allowed to swallow — just a suck at the sponge and 
a hasty rinsing of the mouth. The Greenshore 
coach spoke a few words to Roy, who was careful 
not to step off the field. The captain nodded and 
went back to his men. 

Though the intermission was slight the rival 
166 



Templeton Smashed Through Tackle for a Touchdown, 






FOILED. ‘ 

cheering squads improved the opportunity to wage 
a conflict of vocal power and melody. 

Shrilly the whistle sounded. The battle was 
again on. The Red and Black, in the shadow of 
their own goal posts, fought nobly to ward off the 
calamity which they inwardly felt was about to 
fall. For two downs sheer desperation caused 
them to hold the ^foe at bay. But the strain was 
too much and on the third play Templeton smash- 
ed through “Dutch'^ Condon's tackle for a touch- 
down. 

With the praises of his school-mates ringing in 
his ears the happy boy captain booted the ball 
over the bar for an additional point. 

As he went out upon the field in preparation for 
another kickoff Captain Webb passed him. 

‘‘First blood for you, Templeton, but we are com- 
ing back strong, old fellow,” good-naturedly warn- 
ed the game Red and Black leader. 

“Allright, Webbie, turn yourselves loose.” Roy 
felt confident, but a solemn respect for this manly 
rival burned deep within him. 

Fairfield did come back strong — so strong that 
many anxious moments were spent by the sup- 
porters of the Blue and White — moments when it 
seemed that the enemy must score, yet each time 
167 


^^SKEETER” McCOY 

the “do or die'^ spirit instilled into the cadet play- 
ers by their soft-speaking coach, flamed up to suf- 
ficient intensity to stoically block the way to Fair- 
field joy. 

It was one of those contests gloried in by the 
average fan — a struggle in which neither team 
finds a great amount of difficulty in shattering the 
defense of the other until the climatic moment ar- 
rives somewhere between the fifteen yard line and 
the goal. Then it is that the all but conquered foe 
shows a reserve and ferocity not even known to it- 
self. 

Seldom had Academy Field seen more strate- 
getic nor more whirlwind foot ball than that which 
was displayed by each principal to this annual 
Turkey Day classic. 

Up and down the field the battle raged, first one 
team seemingly about to score ; then the other. 
As is often the case with school boy teams, fum- 
bles marred the general excellence of play. Elim- 
ination of this fault would have almost insured 
victory for the one or the other of the two contest- 
ing schools. 

Securing the ball on downs near the end of the 
quarter, Greenshore, by a rapid fire attack, march- 
ed to the forty-yard line. Here Fairfield braced 
168 


FOILED. 

perceptibly and the cadets' first two attempts at 
further advancement were without result. Tem- 
pleton dropped back for a kick from placement. 
Even as he did so, the timekeeper rushed upon the 
field. The half was over and Greenshore held a 
hard earned seven-point lead. 

As the two teams trotted off the field, each to 
its dressing room, the Greenshore cohorts gave 
vent to their hilarity, and from the opposite side of 
the field the Fairfield delegation, somewhat crest- 
fallen, yet still with plenty of fight and optimism 
left in their makeups, sang and yelled their de- 
fiance. 

Old men and elderly ladies, feeling anew the 
exuberance of youth as they were swept along by 
the general storm of enthusiasm all about them, 
vied with the school-boys in their demonstration 
of love and loyalty for one or the other of the two 
schools. And we must not fail to mention the fact 
that pretty girls formed no small portion of the 
holiday array and their allegiance to one or the 
other of the two sets of youthful heroes could 
easily be read in the healthy, flushed cheeks and 
animated eye of some and the more sober counte- 
nance and slightly pouting lips of the others. 

169 


^^SKEETER^^ McCOY 

In the locker-room “Plush” had little to say to 
his boys, but by his twinkling eye they knew that 
they had “made good.” His words formed just a 
short summing up of the more glaring faults 
noticed either in the attack or defense and his re- 
marks had none of the bite of criticism. Into his 
boys — sitting panting and attentive on the bench 
before him, he injected the determination of his 
own almost unconquerable will power and person- 
ality. A very magnetic man was “Plush,” and to 
no small degree was this attribute concerned in 
his successful career as an athletic mentor. 

Finishing his talk abruptly, he turned to Roy 
and drew him into the shower room. 

“We are safe, boy. Just what has happened, I 
can’t say. It’s got my nanny. But, thank God, 
I do know that old Harry is clean.” 

“Righto! And, Coach, did you see that boy 
spill those plays? Harry never played such ball 
before.” 

“No — never. Which goes to show that he has 
some special incentive under his skin today. 
There’s a dark gent in the wood-pile somewhere 
and I’m beginning to think that he has accident- 
ally gotten his head upon the chopping block.” 

“Well, we know that the party’s name is Raley 
170 


FOILED. 

and I believe that Harry is the fellow holding the 
axe.” 

‘‘Got me. But it^ll come out later. Now let's 
tune up that bunch inside there. We're sure of a 
chance to show now and let's make it a good per- 
formance.'' 

Just what the tuning up consisted of is a debata- 
ble question, but it was evidently expertly ac- 
complished, for the Greenshore team which an- 
swered the referee's whistle for the beginning of 
the second half fairly radiated power and confi- 
dence. And it did not take the spectators long to 
realize that the real contest reverted back to the 
first half. 

Fairfield fought desperately to stem the tide of 
defeat which was rapidly drowning the hopes and 
laying low the cherished ambitions and burning 
desire of a year. All during the third period they 
fought — ^fought with their sturdy captain at their 
back urging them on to their best — a best which, 
though heroically given, was so pitiably inade- 
quate that a mist, caused by feeling for his men 
and his own personal disappointment, shone in his 
steel blue eyes. Once — twice — three times the 
Blue and White crashed over the tallying line dur- 
ing those dismal fifteen minutes. 

171 


‘‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

Captain Templeton, feeling for his rival, yet 
'Worshipping the colors that he bore and ah that 
they stood for, 'was the principal battering ram in 
the tremendous assault. Once toward the close of 
the period, as if taking pity upon the exhausted 
and humiliated visitors, the hand of fortune halt- 
ed the triumphant advance long enough to allow 
Captain Webb to scoop up a free for all fumble and 
dash fifty-three yards for the Red and Black's 
only score of the day. He easily kicked goal. 

Templeton, deep down within him, was glad 
that so small a portion of balm had been extended 
to his rival. Manhood always glories in meeting 
manhood, even though it be face to face upon the 
field of battle. Henceforth, however, fickle for- 
tune's dial pointed ever and anon to the slope 
whereupon the Blue and White's folds were flying 
joyously in the November breeze. 

If the third quarter had brought certainty of 
defeat to Fairfield the final could only be men- 
tioned in the terms of an utter rout. Bruised, bat- 
tered, absolutely spent, the spirit of the inferior 
team began to wane. Players of both elevens, 
spectators and officials, were all glad and relieved 
when the whistle officially announced a decisive 
and glorious Greenshore victory. 

172 


FOILED. 

Roy, after fighting free from the crowd which 
surged out upon the field, ready to lift the heroes 
to their shoulders and carry them thus in triumph 
to the locker room, stood a few seconds watching 
the joy-intoxicated cadet corps go through the 
snake dance back and forth over the battle-scarred 
field. The quiet peace and satisfied calm of one 
who is about to hand over the badge of honor and 
responsibility to another was upon him. A hand 
plucked at his arm. It was Webb. 

‘‘Congratulations, old man. You won a splendid 
victory.” The open, flushed face with its perspir- 
ation soaked lock of black hair clinging to the 
damp forehead, broke into a sad little smile. 

“Thanks, Webbie, but now that it is all over, I 
cannot but regret that you had to be on the side 
of the enemy.” The sweat grimed hands of the 
two opposing generals of a few minutes before, 
remained firmly clasped for a full minute. 

“Well, anyway, we'll be under the same flag at 
college next year.” 

“That's right,” replied Roy, “and I hope that we 
may some day both be able to fight side by side 
for the Crimson.” 

Roy turned suddenly about. Sound of loud 
173 


‘^SKEETER^^ McCOY 

voices, as if in heated argument, had come to his 
ears from over back of the cinder track. 

‘‘Something doing, Webbie. Let's lope over.” 

As they approached the little gathering, unseen 
by those present, the harsh voice of a man broke 
out in a tone of bitter denunciation : 

“I don't know what your game is but you two 
crooked stiffs have double-crossed me. Not a sin- 
gle one of those signals was called during the en- 
tire game. You've made me look like a kinder- 
garten coach. But you'll repent it!” 

“Why that's Raley,” said Captain Webb to Roy, 
as he edged closer. “What can he mean?” A 
pallor had come over his face. 

• “Sh I” whispered Roy. “Let's see.” 

“It wasn't Zack and me, you boob,” spoke up a 
man whom Roy had recognized as being one of the 
mysterious visitors to the mill. “It was this d — d 
kid what sold you out. Me and Zack has lost a 
cool thousand which is more than your whole d — d 
reputation is worth.” Fury and scorn both lurk- 
ed upon his face. 

Templeton, stepping closer, identified the re- 
maining parties to this little chance assembly. 
Nor was he very much surprised when he saw 
Harry Lewis standing to one side and close behind 
174 


FOILED. 

him '‘Hunch"' Willis and "Boss” Minot. No other 
members of the "Ring” were present. Willis' 
face was ashen. Lewis' brows were contracted 
as if in deep thought and a dangerous light hover- 
ed in his eyes. He began speaking — quietly — de- 
liberately — and his words were as music to Roy's 
ears: 

"You are wrong, Bill. I crossed your dirty 
plans — that is true, but I did not double-cross you. 
Be game and acknowledge that your present unde- 
sirable plight is due to your own fatal mistake in 
coming to a member of any Greenshore team in 
order to buy off honor with your ill-gotten coin. 
You sent for me to come to the old mill and, 
through a spirit of adventure I went. If you re- 
member correctly, you spoke immediately of cer- 
tain plays which we used to advantage against 
Fairfield last year. You told me then that you 
wanted the signals used for those plays and that 
you would pay dear for them. I gave you the sig- 
nals — last year's signals — signals which were used 
— not those which were to be used. Just a little 
difference in tense — that's all. I gave you what 
you asked for — ^but you asked for the wrong thing. 
You paid dearly. Bill, no doubt about that.” There 
175 


^‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

was laughing scorn in the boy's voice — “dearly 
two ways.” 


176 


CHAPTER XII. 


The Way of The Transgressor. 

T he ‘‘Ring’" had been in session for at least an 
hour. Willis had lost no time in calling his 
henchmen together. While bond-fires burn- 
ed brightly and every known means for joyous and 
clamorous celebration w^as being brought into play 
by the elated cadets out in the darkness below, a 
common feeling of gloom and impending disaster, 
rather than loyalty to one another, served as the 
bond which drew together and held this, uneasy 
group of boys. Several would gladly have wiped 
their hands of the entire business and disavowed 
further allegiance to a cause which they knew to 
be dishonorable to the core and, incidentally, al- 
ways destined to defeat. 

'^Shad'' Thomas was the leader of this element 
but, distasteful as it was, and perilous to his hopes 
and chances at Greenshore, he decided that he 
would see the present crisis through. Inwardly, 
like several of his associates, he flayed himself for 
not sooner heeding the call of his better nature. 
177 


“SKEETER^^ McCOY 

After this — well, if disgrace had not fastened its 
stigma already upon him, he would at least obey 
only the dictates of his own mind. 

It would be decidedly unfair to state that the 
splendid victory of the afternoon had not aroused 
a spirit of pride and patriotism in the breast 
of any boy in this room. Such was not the 
case. A great majority of those present had 
inwardly gloried in the day’s triumph because 
at heart they were loyal Greenshore boys 
and because, secretly, they were glad that Willis’ 
crowning act of dishonor had fallen upon barren 
ground. Hitherto, ‘‘Hunch” had contented 
himself with misdemeanors and plottings of a 
minor character — led an unpopular “click” in the 
controversies and ever present battles, of one kind 
or another, incident to boarding school life. Many 
times in the past these now repentant ones had 
reluctantly given their acquiescence to his brazen- 
ly outlined schemes and had only half-heartedly 
supported him in those of his campaigns which 
smacked of unfairness or of dishonor. This last 
scheme — unadulterated treachery that it was — 
had served as the straw which broke his hold of 
evil influence upon them. Only “Boss” Minot and 
“Ring” Tyree had stood unquestioningly at his 
178 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR, 
side. The others, while raising no dissenting 
voice, saw their former leader so clearly in his true 
light that they had sickened at heart and become 
determined in spirit. 

Ever since the moment of assembly and the 
locking of the door and lowering of the curtain, 
‘"Hunch” had held the floor. What few inter- 
spersing remarks had been spoken by others came 
from Tyree and Minot. The silence in all other 
sections of the room was judged by Willis at its 
true value and only served to add to his tirade of 
wrath and denunciation of affairs and persons in 
general. 

“You guys might flgure it that you are safe 
whatever comes,” he broke out, “but let me tell 
you one thing: If ‘Boss,' ‘Ring' and myself get 
chucked for this little rumpus, you'll go too. 
You've been at all the meetings and, though you 
left the actual work up to us, the ‘Com' will place 
you in the same boat with us. I tell you, we've 
got to stick together. If one goes, all go.” The 
last was in the form of a sly appeal — a last rally 
call to colors. 

No answer came from the sober boys. 

Willis eyed each boy thoughtfully. He felt they 
must realize the gravity of the situation. He 
179 


‘^SKEETER^^ McCOY 

had certainly endeavored to make it plain — ^just 
what had transpired after the game — the contro- 
versy between Raley and the gamblers and the im- 
mediate shunting by the latter of the responsibil- 
ity over to Lewis — Harry's acknowledgement that 
he had paid them in their own coin, yet without 
dishonor. He had also told them of the two wit- 
nesses to the occurrence — Webb and Templeton. 

''Ring" Tyree first broke the silence which had 
settled over the room since "Hunch" had ceased 
speaking. 

" 'Hunch,' you talk like a man who had already 
received sentence. The whole matter may blow 
over, for all we know. What makes you think 
that old Hey wood is wise or sure to be put wise ?" 

"Because of what Webb said to Raley. He went 
entirely off his block and didn't mince words, I 
tell you. Told him that he might as well go 
straight West from Greenshore station and save 
himself the trouble of facing the evidence which 
he intended laying before the faculty fellows at 
Fairfield. I declare, the cuss was so mad that he 
almost broke down and bawled. Even turned to 
Templeton and told him that after all that had 
happened he was glad that Fairfield had been lick- 
ed. Can you beat it?" 


180 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR. 

''What did Lord Roy say?'' inquired the other, 
sarcastically. 

"Nothing. Simply gave us all the 'far beyond,' 
grabbed Lewis with one arm and Webb with the 
other and walked away toward the gym." 

"And Raley?" 

"Oh, he swore and ripped at everybody in sight. 
Threatened to have the law on Bill and Zack and 
promised Lewis and the rest of us that the 'Com' 
would receive a full report of all the doings. He 
actually accused all of us of being in one grand 
connivance to ruin him. I'm no calamity yelper, 
boys, but we've got to face the music this time, 
and we'd better be prepared. Raley's a bad 'un. 
I know that from what my uncle wrote and I'll bet 
he'll prove to be a revengeful devil." 

"Chief, I'm afraid you made a mistake in but- 
ting into that little squabble. How came you and 
'Boss' to be on the scene?" Tyree spoke in the 
tone of a gentle reprimand, fearfully given. He 
felt a certain amount of security due to the fact 
that he had stayed clear of the aftermath. 

"Yah." Willis was clearly irritated by his 
crony's accusing words. "Preach and moralize 
now, will you? Lot of good that will do you. 
You know perfectly well why we went down to in- 
181 


‘‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

vestigate. Raley was wise enough to send a kid 
after Lewis as soon as the game was over so that 
the meeting would not be so public. I was natur- 
ally watching Lewis, and when I saw who he was 
going to meet down where the cinder track passes 
the laundry I knew what was about to happen. 
What good would it have done to stay away? 
Everybody there knew we were in the pie except — 
I was about to say Templeton, but now that we 
know the dido that Lewis cut, it's a cinch that he 
was either wise then or is now. Webb's knowing 
it doesn't cut any ice whatever with us." 

*T guess you're right," replied “Ring" not relish- 
ing his master's ire and now anxious to agree. “If 
you hadn't been on hand, we probably would still 
be in the dark as just what to expect and steel our- 
selves against." 

“Now, you're talking sense," went on Willis, 
pleased to note that his mighty sway had not been 
broken at least over two of his set. “Besides, I 
hoped to be able to speak a few quieting words, 
but Raley wouldn't listen to reason. Bill and Zack 
certainly stood the shock like sports, probably be- 
cause they valued their personal liberty above 
their coin and had sense enough to see that the 
choice was up to them." 

182 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR. 

*'What can we do, ‘Hunch/ other than to lay 
low V* asked Minot, anxiously. 

“Well, to my way of thinking, this is the case in 
a nutshell. We need fear no harm from Bill and 
Zack. They are probably in Kingston now, pre- 
paring for a hasty get-a-way. They haven't been 
there long and their operations are rather of a 
roaming nature. After today's fracas I feel that 
they will be making a rapid change of base. So 
much for them. I hardly think that Lewis, Tem- 
pleton or Webb will squeal. They are not that 
sort. They've made fools of us and are satisfied. 
You see it narrow's down to Raley. And that bird 
is liable to make good his threat !" 

“But he can't prove anything. He — " 

“Only that we instigated the whole affair." Wil- 
lis cut Tyree short. 

“Don't you think," he continued, “that Raley 
knows that I first suggested the scheme to Bill at 
the Orinoke Fair this summer? Also that I, poor 
fool that I was, on account of my knowledge of 
the empty condition of Lewis' jeans, picked him 
as the medium through whom the job could be 
successfully pulled? Who sent the copy of the 
signals to Raley ? Me ! Then you prate about his 

183 


“SKEETER^^ McCOY 

lack of proof ! Shake your brains before they dry 
up !'' ‘‘Hunch” fairly snorted his disgust. 

Certainly there was less harmony in this sitting 
of the “Ring” than upon any former like occasion, 
The truth of the matter is that every boy present 
felt that the “jig” was up. It was hard for them 
to believe that such a sensational affair, from the 
stand-point of the student bodies of both Green- 
shore and Fairfield, could possibly subside and be 
forgotten without reaching the ever attentive ear 
of Captain Heywood. Willis, himself, realized the 
fallacy of such a belief, but hearkening to the oft- 
quoted doctrine that “misery likes company,” and 
further realizing that in the apprehension and 
conviction of a guilty band it fell by custom and 
precedent that the neck of the leader more quick- 
ly and surely found the noose, he was desperately 
striving to retain the advantage and comfort of 
strong and well-defined organization. 

Even as “Hunch” finished his analysis of the 
plight of himself and followers, over in Lanier 
Hall the silvery tinkle of Captain Heywood's of- 
fice ’phone was announcing the first swift dash of 
retribution. 

Ordinarily, the school head would have been 
found at his desk, but tonight he was quietly en- 
184 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR, 
joying the spoils of victory in his own little private 
residence. Earlier in the night he had addressed 
the howling mob of boys who stormed his lawn 
and porches. Now, he was sitting alone in the 
library and his thoughts, ever on his boys, were 
mellow and tender. 

The village central, receiving no answer to her 
numerous calls of the office, switched the connec- 
tion to the residence number. With a little start 
the Commandant came out of his pleasant little 
reverie and took up the receiver. 

‘‘Hello ! Yes, this is Captain Hey wood.” 

(( 

“What! Benedict Arnolds in my school? Who 
is this speaking?” 

< ( f y 

“It doesn’t matter? I fail to agree with you. 
I generally prefer to know whom I am addressing. 
What do you mean by my having Benedict Arnolds 
here?” 

<< yy 

“Traitors! Why, man alive, you’ve called the 
wrong school.” 

it » 

“How’s that? You can prove it?” 

n yy 


185 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

‘‘Thanks. I can assure you that you shall have 
the opportunity of doing so if you will kindly 
leave your name and address.'^ Captain Heywood 
was fast losing his habitual composure. 

« ff 

“Again not necessary? Interview Templeton, 
Lewis and Willis V* 

tt yt 

“I shall be hard to convince, sir. I thank you 
for your information, however, provided it proves 
correct.” 

a yy 

“Good-bye, sir.” 

The receiver went back to its hook with a bang. 
The Captain's peace of mind, so perfect a few mo- 
ments before, was shattered. Anything which 
tended to besmirch the name of his school or chal- 
lenge the loyalty of his boys, cut him to the quick. 
His first sudden flow of resentment towards the 
man at the other end of the line rapidly died down 
for he realized that two warring factions, one long 
a menace to the good of the school, had been 
named by the anonymous speaker. Deciding to 
get rapidly to the bottom of any disloyalty, if such 
did exist, he hurried into his cape and cap and 
strode out upon the campus where sounds of jolli- 
186 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR, 
ty still lingered, in search of Templeton and Lewis. 
This was soon accomplished and the three solemn- 
ly entered the office. 

Willis, when he declared that Harry and Roy 
would not “snitch,” told the truth, but he failed to 
take into consideration what their actions would 
be under just such conditions as had now arisen. 
The two cadets had no alternative. They simply 
told the story, step by step, dating it from the 
time that Roy first received the summons to San- 
der’s Mill. Both Lewis and Templeton were as 
lenient towards the members of the “Ring” as it 
was possible for them to be and at the same time 
state the truth. What they stated was not given 
as direct accusation. They impressed it upon their 
superior that they were simply repeating the situ- 
ation as they had construed it by Raley’s angry 
words. 

Captain asked but a single question during the 
recital. When told of the bribe offered Harry, 
he asked : 

“Did you return the money?” 

“Yes, sir — in fact, sir, I never held it.” 

“What do you mean? I understood you to say 
that you took the money at the mill.” 

187 


^‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

‘'Yes, sir. But the very next day I banked it 
down town in the gambler's name." 

“Does he know this ?" 

“Yes, sir. I told him after the game today." 

“Very good. I'm glad of that. But Lewis" — 
and a searching light came into the Captain's 
eyes — “you certainly were playing with fire. I am 
glad that these rogues were taught a good lesson, 
and I am more glad that you acted honorably to- 
wards them — but boy — explode your bomb at the 
first charge next time. If things had not swung 
just as they did, you might have been placed in a 
very undesirable light and through no actual fault 
of your own. For instance, Templeton here, had 
his eyes upon you. Suppose Greenshore had been 
defeated today and our plays really blocked. How 
would you have proved your innocence?" 

“That's right, sir. I never thought of it in that 
light before." 

“Nor I." Templeton breathed a sigh as he 
thought how nearly he and Harry had come to the 
parting of the ways. Such a case as cited by Cap- 
tain Heywood could easily have been brought 
about. 

For the second time that night the boy-loving 
master complimented both lads upon their excel- 
188 


THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR, 
lent work of the afternoon. With a genial smile 
and firm grip of the hand he signified their dis- 
missal. Who can say just what type of emotion 
lit his eye as he watched their retreating forms? 

It was ‘'Hunch'* himself who opened his door to 
Captain Heywood’s knock. The immediate rush 
of blood from his head gave his face, in the glare 
of the electric light, a deathly pallor and he stood 
speechless. The Commandant's gaze rested only 
a moment upon the unfortunate leader — then 
swept the entire room. 

“Willis, Minot, Tyree and Thomas will please 
report without delay to the office. You will find 
me there waiting." 

Before a boy had caught his checked breath h3 
was gone. 

Raley had made good his threat ! 


189 


CHAPTER XIII. 

The Echo of The Bell. 

N O one in the entire school was much sur- 
prised when the order was published a few 
days later announcing the dismissal of 
Cadets Willis, Minot and Tyree. The little phrase 
‘‘on account of unprecedented misconduct'' was 
fully understood by all. Few there were whose 
thoughts took the form of sympathy for the mis- 
creants. 

Captain Heywood never took drastic action un- 
til he was absolutely sure of his ground. He view- 
ed the expulsion of a boy as a calamity in his life 
and never resorted to this form of punishment un- 
less all other means had failed and unless the good 
of his institution as an entirety depended upon 
such a course. 

This case formed no exception to his general 
rule. After having heard what the four boys had 
to say who had been called to the office he lost no 
time in getting into touch with young Webb. The 
Fairfield captain's message was the final evidence 
which decided the case. 

190 


THE ECHO OF THE BELL. 

He made no mention of any of the members of 
the ‘‘Ring” except those who were expelled. Yet 
Greenshore's owner learned, through his talk with 
Templeton, that at least one other member was 
cognizant of all that had taken place? This lad 
was “Shad” Thomas, but Roy did his noble best to 
show the Commandant that Thomas, at heart, was 
a loyal son of the school. He also plead nobly for 
the other members of this ill-famed set who had 
been foolish enough to allow themselves to be pup- 
pets in the hands of Willis. 

What testimony this latter gentleman gave was 
never made known, but it soon leaked out that, 
learning that his own case was hopeless, he at- 
tempted to bring down the official axe upon the 
heads of all of his friends by declaring that his 
every act had been aided, abetted and sanctioned 
by them. This charge was, of course, made volun- 
tarily. No more cowardly act could have ushered 
him out of Greenshore. 

However, Captain Heywood’s careful investiga- 
tion failed to substantiate Willis, and the case of 
those incriminated was allowed to rest with a 
strong reprimand and a long sentence of “proba- 
tion” which all eventually were able, by exemplary 
conduct, to have lifted. “Shad” Thomas, espec- 
191 


^‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

ially, came rapidly from under the cloud and with- 
in a remarkably short time had earned a respected 
status upon the campus and with the '‘powers that ' 
be/^ 

It was really wonderful to note the immediate 
effect upon the general atmosphere of the school 
that the expulsion of these three wayward boys 
wrought. For several years the “Ring” had been 
the center of whatever friction existed and trou- 
bled old Greenshore. 

Instead of still holding up the barrier to those 
who had previously been without the pale on ac- 
count of the company they kept, the student body 
brought its full power of democracy and fellow- 
ship to bear upon them and welcome them into the 
earnest, clean-living life which the cadets on the 
hill gloried in and exemplified. 

With foot ball, in a flash of glory and triumph, 
eliminated from their daily lives, the majority of 
the cadets settled down to their studies with an 
energy which spoke of rapidly approaching exami- 
nations. These were held three times a year and 
the first siege stood between the boys and the 
pleasures of the Christmas vacation. Thus it was 
that the case of Willis and his treachery, which 
had so shocked and aroused the burning indigna- 
192 


THE ECHO OF THE BELL, 
tion of the school, gradually became forgotten as 
the even more serious question of successful 
scholastic standing loomed into view. 

Roy, especially, made up for lost time in the way 
of ^‘boning.” So full of activities and worry had 
been his Fall term that now, on the last lap of it, 
he improved his every opportunity to make sure 
that no questioning grade should mar his antici- 
pated pleasure, not only of the approaching holi- 
day season, but of the crowning moment of his 
school-boy life when Captain He3rwood should 
place in his hands the coveted diploma. Beyond 
that day Roy dared not look. Whenever he 
thought of what separation from the old school 
and the priceless friends who surrounded him 
would mean the cloud of the future drove the sun- 
light from the present. 

No one connected with the school had enjoyed 
the glorious termination of the foot ball season 
more than young “Skeeter^' McCoy. He and 
‘‘Whitey” had really gone foot ball crazy and al- 
ready had formed plans for the organization of a 
midget eleven for the following year. *^Whitey” 
naturally yearned to become as great as his big 
brother Jack, and *‘Skeeter^^ had but one aim in 
athletics — to rise as near to Templeton^s zenith 
193 


^^SKEETER” McCOY 

as, in his idolizing eyes, it was possible for any 
other human to reach. 

McCoy's injury had cast him into the back- 
ground as far as immediate participation in low- 
er-form foot ball was concerned, but the season 
of another sport in which he had always taken a 
great deal of interest was fast approaching. 
*Tlush" had already called for a meeting of the 
candidates for the track and field teams and Mc- 
Coy had shyly signified his intention of giving his 
mite toward the success of the dual indoor track 
meet, to be held in February, with Carlton 
Academy. 

This was an annual affair and served admirably, 
in conjunction with basket ball, to keep the school 
spirit up to a high pitch during the bleak winter 
months. Fairfield was seldom represented in 
track sports and Carlton, famous in this branch of 
sport, took the position held by the former school 
in foot ball and base ball — Greenshore's mostly 
feared rival. 

"Skeeter" and ‘Whitey," having had ample time 
to keep up their recitation work and not viewing 
the approaching ordeal of examinations in as se- 
rious a light as did those nearing graduation, 
spent much of their spare time upon the cinder 
194 


THE ECHO OF THE BELL, 
track. Whenever the weather prohibited out-door 
work they kept their muscles in shape by using 
the suspended wooden track in the gym. Both 
youngsters showed much promise of being of val- 
uable aid in the events scheduled for little fellows. 

Templeton, while good in several other events, 
was known more for sterling performance in the 
hurdle races than for his mediocre ability in other 
branches of track work. 

While he had decided not to begin his own work 
until after the holidays he rested and refreshed 
his mind from study by spending a short while 
each day in giving pointers and coaching ‘‘Whitey*^ 
and McCoy, who were delighted to be his proteges. 

Though Roy had eclipsed all his former foot ball 
records in the season just closed and held the same 
amount of respect, confidence and love from the 
faculty and student body that he had formerly en- 
joyed, there were moments, unbeknown to his 
friends, when he gave way to melancholia in an 
aggravated form. 

His outward front spoke, as usual, only of joy- 
ous, fair-minded boyhood, but sometimes in the 
privacy of his own room, generally during wakeful 
periods in the wee hours of the morning, he hope- 
lessly and, at times, frantically, reviewed the cir- 
195 


‘‘SKEETER^' McCOY 

eumstances which preceded and accompanied the 
loss of that possession which he held as the dear- 
est of all his honors — ^his commission as cadet 
major. 

Loyal and obedient boy since childhood, firmly 
grounded in Greenshore ideals, he never 
for an instant considered Captain Hey- 
wood’s action as other than a mistaken decision, 
made as a result of incriminating circumstances 
which only he^ Templeton, could solve. It was 
typically characteristic of the boy that no solution 
had been offered to Greenshore's owner. In silence 
he had suffered rather than take the initiative in 
the exposure of the rascality of another cadet, 
which he had discovered through sheer chance. 
Only he knew and felt the red iron sear caused by 
the fact that it was his own dual attempt to shield 
the real offender and also this offender's victim, 
which brought the official axe instantly down upon 
his own innocent neck. The true culprit's identi- 
ty Roy did not know, though he had ample reason 
to believe that the entire business could be, if the 
truth be made known, traced to the door of 
“Hunch" Willis, recently expelled. The intended 
victim was little “Skeeter" McCoy, and the touch- 
ing part of the whole affair, one that proved once 
196 


THE ECHO OF THE BELL, 
more the fine, broad-minded makeup of Templeton, 
was that it was McCoy’s innocently given testi- 
mony which caused Roy’s downfall. Be it said, 
however, in ^'Skeeter’s” favor that, had he known 
the disastrous effect which his words were des- 
tined to bring about, possessing a character, the 
very foundation of which was built upon honor, 
the same testimony would have been given. 

Giving it as he had done, with no idea of trou- 
ble or consequence, had driven the conscientious 
little lad nearly frantic. Had he known before- 
hand that his idol would suffer through his words, 
it is hard to estimate just how the little blue-eyed 
knight of honor would have fared in the after bat- 
tle with himself. 

Splendid lads, both of these boys, and pity it is, 
as well as a strange coincidence, that fate should 
decree that, though each loved and admired the 
other, the elder should, with fine chivalry, 
successfully frustrate an effort to injure his little 
pal, only to have this same little pal become the 
medium through which his own unmerited pun- 
ishment was drawn his way. 

‘"Skeeter” did not know that it was while en- 
deavoring to shield him that Roy himself ran 
amuck, and Templeton, with a fine sense of charity, 
197 


“SKEETER” McCOY 

failed to make him cognizant of the fact. How- 
ever, we are running slightly ahead of our story. 
Soon the reader, Captain Heywood and McCoy 
will be much wiser and ready to sing Templeton’s 
praises anew. 

Gradually, as the term examinations approach- 
ed, Greenshore took on more and more a studious 
air and even such care-free youngsters as 
"‘Whitey” and ‘"Skeeter” settled down to real, con- 
scientious ‘"boning” as the cadets termed the fran- 
tic preparation for the onrushing tests. Many 
lads there were who attempted to make up for 
uncounted frivolously spent days by putting in a 
few earnest hours of cramming just prior to the 
judgment days, but when the ordeal was actually 
encountered the fallacy of such a policy was readi- 
ly proven and sadly they fell by the scholastic 
wayside, while those of their mates who had plug- 
ged heroically forward, each day performing the 
allotted amount of work, smilingly emerged from 
the conflict and were passed on to a more advanc- 
ed and cherished position. 

McCoy and young Snowden, though they could 
hot be termed exemplary students, were both gift- 
ed with more than average intellect, and this fact, 
coupled with barely enough endeavor, resulted in 
198 


THE ECHO OF THE BELL, 
their successfully squeezing through the majority 
of their subjects. ‘‘Skeeter's” Latin paper brought 
first the wrinkles of perplexity and then broad 
smiles of amusement to the face of one Professor 
Emerick, while ‘^Whitey” submitted to Dr. Basic 
a veritable alphabetic and numeric jumble and had 
the audacity to label the tops of his fool's cap pa- 
per with the caption, ^‘Algebra.” But aside from 
these shortcomings both chums did well. 

Judging by the results of their first siege of ex- 
aminations it could truthfully be said that neith- 
er boy stopped at the half-way mark. The sub- 
jects which they passed they passed with honor, 
and the examinations which they ^‘flunked" were 
really ludicrous attempts to give evidence to their 
superiors of progress which had not been made. 

Roy, steady lad that he was, had worried need- 
lessly. The same conscientious work and unyield- 
ing energy which characterized his every endeav- 
or in other branches of school-boy life, he had 
shown daily in his class-room tasks, and the much 
dreaded days of test week brought to him only un- 
bounded success. 

Most of Templeton's boon companions were in 
the main successful and it was a rollicking set of 
boys who gathered in the “club-rooms," Temple- 
199 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

ton’s quarters, to celebrate and make manifest 
their glee. ‘‘Skeeter” and “Whitey,” as usual, 
crowded themselves into the presence of their hi- 
larious elders. 

‘‘Well, thank the Lord that is over,” joyously 
sang out Roy as he settled luxuriously among the 
pillows of the window seat and glanced at his 
friends scattered about his quarters. Every cozy 
nook, the trunk top, study table, and bed, bore to 
their utmost capacity a burden of smiling boy- 
hood. From Templeton’s face had disappeared 
the look of premature age and desperate determin- 
ation which always was noticeable during the 
stress of examination week. Today he was at par, 
and “par” in connection with Templeton meant 
that all was well in regard to mind, body and 
spirit. 

“Y-e-a, B-ol” 

“None too soon for me. I had just about decid- 
ed upon the wording of my obituary.” 

“Me, too.” 

“Golly, Dad’s going to be sore about French. 
But I ‘killed’ the rest of ’em.” 

“Old ‘Grumpy’ was unreasonable.” 

“The trouble is you didn’t have enough reason 
to reason with ‘Grumpy’s’ reason. That’s the 
200 


THE ECHO OF THE BELL, 
reason he had a reason to test your reason against 
his reason.” 

‘‘My hands are up. You win and ‘Grumpy^ wins 
but I win in the spring test. See?” 

“Fine. Glad to hear it, Jack. ‘Grumpy’ has a 
‘rep’ when it comes to cures. That’s the reason 
he had for putting his reason against — ” 

“Oh, shut up! I flunked one subject and cake- 
walked with three while you prayed and skinned 
through four. You have no license to rub it in.” 

“Some remedies have to be to prove beneficial.” 

“Yes, and others are labelled: ‘Shake well be- 
fore using, and I am about ready to use you.” 

With hostilities on the verge of beginning, Roy, 
more out of regard and sympathy for his furnish- 
ings than from concern for the safety of the bel- 
ligerents, very wisely and tactfully soothed anger 
and ruffled feelings by propounding a query which, 
like a magnet, drew together the thoughts and 
interest of all assembled and allowed the dove of 
peace to flit unhampered and unchallenged 
through a much cleared atmosphere. 

''Say, you boobs, do you realize that the Christ- 
mas vacation begins at Reveille tomorrow?” 

“You said that flat, Roy. We go ‘off duty’ when 


‘^SKEETER^^ McCOY 

the clarion notes of the trumpet call us to view the 
splendor of the coming morn.” 

‘‘Buzz” Cohill settled back, contented with him- 
self and the world in general after this strenuous, 
highly-colored effort. Anticipated pleasure and 
freedom from duty were written deep upon his 
countenance. 

From the nearby rooms and corridors issued 
sounds indicative that the buoyant, care-free spirit 
and attitude of Roy and his chums was prevalent 
throughout the Greenshore corps. This splendid 
group of well-trained lads, easily amenable to dis- 
cipline and ever anxious and willing to perform 
all duties assigned to them, were champing glee- 
fully upon their bits as they stood before the bar- 
rier which upon the morn was to be lifted. 

“Call to quarters” put an end, temporarily, to 
the elaborate planning. “Skeeter” was the only 
one of Roy's circle who was not going directly to 
his own home, but it was a voluntarily made situa- 
tion with him. Templeton, whose love for the lit- 
tle lower-former had increased with every passing 
day, had arranged to take the youngster home 
with him for a few days' visit. To “Skeeter” this 
meant all in all. To emulate Templeton was his 
chief aim in life, and to be with his hero at his 
202 


THE ECHO OF THE BELL, 
home for a short while and then on to home and 
Dad in itself, constituted, without further outlin- 
ed details, a prospect not to be excelled. 

That night the cadets, seated at third mess, 
were called abruptly to attention by Captain Hey- 
wood, who had stepped into the dining hall from 
the vestibule, unnoticed, and who was standing 
stem and straight by the door. The boys' faces 
plainly indicated their surprise. Seldom had this 
occurred while they were in the midst of their 
meal. Only matters of rare importance and mo- 
ment were announced at mess and then only by 
the Cadet Major — never by the school head him- 
self. All other orders were published upon one of 
the several battalion formations of the day. No 
wonder the air seemed as if charged with an elec- 
tric current! No wonder ears strained to catch 
the Commandant's words ! He did not delay. His 
voice trembled as he began : 

‘T have this day come into possession of evi- 
dence which has shown to me plainly that to one 
of you — my boys — I have done almost an irrepara- 
ble injustice. I want each of you to know that this 
discovery upon my part has caused me the most 
acute of pains — infinite regret. Yet, still again, 
and just as clearly, do I want each of you to know, 
203 


“SKEETER” McCOY 

to feel and to realize that the injury done by me 
was done with the belief and firm conviction that 
it was not an injury but a duty which could not be 
side-stepped, however unpleasant it might have 
been.” 

Captain Heywood, torn by emotion, which no 
one could fail to detect, paused, as if to get com- 
mand of his quivering lips. His splendid grey 
eyes swept the room, resting an instant upon a 
face here and then a face there. It was as if mute 
appeal shone from beneath the thick-set brows, 
tinged with gray. Finally, his gaze searched out 
and found the training table and rested there. 
Again, quietly and calmly, he began to speak and 
his first three words took the tone and form of a 
command : 

‘'Cadet Templeton, arise !” 

The cadet in question obeyed promptly, quietly, 
composedly. An inkling of the truth was grasped 
by the cadets, and eyes and countenances beamed 
and trembling boy hands were ready for the first 
burst of approbation, but the man before them 
held the storm in check. He was not through. 
Dogged determination, the basis of his rugged 
character, radiated from him. Still facing the 
204 


THE ECHO OF THE BELL, 
cadet standing at the opposite end of the hall, he 
continued : 

“Cadet Templeton, I erred in my decision upon 
the ringing of the fire bell. You have suffered 
for my blunder. I ask your pardon, sir.” The ap- 
peal in the quiet eyes could not be mistaken this 
time. 

“You have it, sir. I have never considered it 
other than a mistake for which circumstances, not 
you, were responsible.” The boy's eyes wavered 
never a whit and the intensity of his admiration 
and confidence in the man before him were notice- 
able in his very manner. 

“I appreciate that fact but I want a full explana- 
tion of the entire affair given to your mates. It is 
your due and it is their due.” Quickly he turned 
his head so as to take the entire room into his vis- 
ion. His words now were directed to the corps as 
a whole. 

“The evidence, of which I have spoken, came in 
this afternoon's mail from Wilbur Willis, brother 
of the expelled cadet. It seems that the younger 
brother brazenly mentioned the scrape into whidh 
Templeton had been plunged and claimed, througji 
a false sense of brilliancy, the credit of so humili- 
ating Templeton. Mr. Wilbur Willis, in a spirit of 
205 


‘‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

fairness, wrote me.” He paused. Every eye was 
upon him and the quiet was nearly oppressive. 

“It seems that young Willis had formed a dis- 
like for Cadet McCoy and had schemed to ring the 
beU himself and cast all suspicion upon McCoy. 
No doubt he would have been successful if Tem- 
pleton had not come into the case and while at- 
tempting to shield McCoy, become himself entan- 
gled. Willis had, after Taps,^ laid two wires to 
the bell from a push-button just within McCoy's 
door. Of course, he attached the necessary bat- 
teries. He then stood in the corridor, reached in- 
side of the door and pushed the button. Instantly 
the bell rang. The young rascal risked detection, 
and the slowness of the cadets upon that floor to 
awake and rush forth gave him ample time to 
make his getaway, as he needed but a few mo- 
ments.” Again he paused. 

“Without having gained the real truth from 
Templeton, I have now formed the following con- 
clusion. Cadet Templeton, enjoying his privilege 
of an hour after Taps,' had just entered the build- 
ing and was standing upon the first landing when 
he caught sight of the tell-tale wires running 
along the hall in front of him. As he stepped 
from the vestibule toward the corridor the beP 
206 


THE ECHO OF THE BELL, 
rang. Immediately the rush and scurry began 
and here it was that McCoy saw him. He spoke 
a word or two to McCoy and then, stepping full in- 
to the hallway, he saw that the wires led to his 
little friend's room. Realizing what the result 
would be if others saw the wires, he hastily jerked 
them from their fastenings and, working very 
fast, succeeded in cramming all tell-tale articles, 
wires, batteries, button and even staples into his 
over-coat pocket. Where he went then and for 
what purpose, I cannot surmise. I do know, as do 
you, that he was halted by the sentry much later 
upon the campus. Am I correct so far, Temple- 
ton?” Again he turned toward Roy. 

“Absolutely, sir. You could not have come 
nearer the truth if you were a mind reader.” 

“Then, Templeton, do you mind supplying the 
missing links?” 

“Not at all, sir, if I am able.” 

“Where did you go after pocketing the wires?” 

“Down the side stair-way and out upon the 
parade ground and from there nearly over the en- 
tire school plant and premises.” 

“What was your aim?” 

‘T was shadowing some-one — rather I thought 
207 


^^SKEETER” McCOY 

I waff, but he doubled back in time for regular for- 
mation.” 

•^And that someone was — ?” 

“Willis.” 

“There. We have it now — the complete expla- 
nation — and the final solution shows us not only 
a lad who has suffered long and bitterly through 
no fault of his own — except, perhaps, that he 
should have come to headquarters with his infor- 
mation rather than pursue a lone investigation 
absolutely upon his own resources — ^but also a man 
who allowed himself to continue to suffer rather 
than throw suspicion upon another whose guilt 
was not clear.” Then to Roy : 

“Your observations of Willis gave you no shred 
of proof against him ?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Templeton, once more I say — I am sorry. The 
only reparation which I can make other than to 
have acknowledged my error before your friends 
— in other words, the school — is to return to you 
that which you lost, with interest. I cannot give 
you the exact commission which you formerly 
held. That vacancy was immediately filled, as 
you will recall. But a higher reward is yours. 

208 


THE ECHO OF THE BELL. 

From this moment, you are my Assistant Com- 
mandant, ranking as Faculty First Lieutenant." 

The storm of applause which hurled itself spon- 
taneously forth and lasted for fully five minutes 
will never be forgotten by the Greenshore boys of 
1912. Roy’s stammered and embarrassed ‘Thank 
you, sir," was unheard, even by himself. He had 
come back into his own. This was the real Green- 
shore that he loved — ^the Captain Heywood whom 
he loved — the friends whom he loved. Such a 
Christmas now as it would be ! 

At a side table, mid-way the length of the 
room, sat, transfixed by joy, a little light-haired 
private with large, honest, blue eyes, and in the 
brilliancy of the electric glow from overhead, 
queer as it may sound and seem, shone diamonds 
upon his cheek. 




209 




CHAPTER XIV. 


Valor Redeems. 


^^TJELFI Helpr 

I I From out the wintry night this plain- 
tive cry was born by the snow-flaked 
gale, chilling the blood of the one skater who 
heard it — a lad skating alone at the lower end of 
Greenshore Bay. In the distance back of him 
hundreds of merry-makers glided joyfully over 
the glistening surface, unmindful of the rising 
gale or the icy particles which stung their faces, 
blurred their vision and crept craftily into pockets 
and under mittens and scarfs. 

The first real freeze of the winter was on and 
the Academy cadets, returned but a day from 
their Christmas vacation, were quick to flock to 
this new field of sport. Nor were they alone. 
Young folk from miles around came to share in 
the fun and gaiety. 

All unmindful of distress hard by they rollicked 
and sang, and to their ears came no sound other 
than that of their own cheery voices, the whistling 
210 


VALOR REDEEMS. 

of the wind and the silvery ring of their skates as 
they cut into the crystal block beneath them. 

The boy who had heard — understood. Yet he 
delayed — though inaction frenzied him. He had 
caught the cry but had not sensed the direction. 
To his straining ear again it came. Ahead to the 
left. 

His every muscle sprang into action. The steel 
in his skates began with a tattoo but soon sang as 
he got under full speed. On and on he dashed in- 
to the white-streaked night — ears alert — body 
driven with desperation. A quarter mile left its 
mark upon him. His lungs ached from the gulp- 
ing inhalation of the frosty air and a gradual 
tightening up came to the muscles of his legs and 
thighs. Into his reserve strength he sent the 
call, and no slackening of speed took place. 

Thirty seconds more brought him to the ‘‘dan- 
ger zone,” the demarkation lines of which were 
known to the entire country-side. Ordinarily the 
flying skater would have turned back in fear, but 
not now. Risk for self was all about him. This 
he full well knew but materialized danger — trag- 
edy to another being — ^maybe death — lurked 
ahead. On he pushed. It was characteristic of 
the boy. 


211 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

With a short leap he cleared a menacing air-hole 
which all but engulfed his flying feet. As he land- 
ed and fought for his equilibrium, the ice cracked 
and groaned ominously. The forward progress 
went on, but discretion now set the pace. Slower 
and slower the boy moved — thinner and thinner 
became the ice — and more numerous became the 
air-holes. He realized that not a moment was to 
be lost but to go ahead was impossible. In fact, 
even as he stood — ^puzzled, baffled — the ice be- 
neath his skates began to give as does an elastic 
band. 

With a desperate whirl the gray-clad figure 
struck off to the left. As he did so water gushed 
up behind him through the newly opened cracks. 
It had been a close call. Anyone who has had ex- 
perience with “rotten” ice(realizes vividly that it 
is not sound but “feel” th^ should guide the ex- 
perimenter with the season^s first offering. 

Before he had taken a half dozen strides, a third 
beseeching scream broke the frigid quietude of the 
night : 

“Help ! Here by the bluff ! Hurry, Oh hur — ^ry ! 
H— E—L— .” 

Now there was no indecision upon the part of 
the cadet. He knew exactly the location of the 
212 


VALOR REDEEMS. 

agonized voices and this told him perfectly, also, 
his own whereabouts. No wonder the ice had 
been thin ! He had been nearly to the edge of the 
lower falls, a spot which never, of course, froze en- 
tirely over. And this was the first genuine 
freeze ! 

The bluff! Who could have been so insane as 
to venture upon this portion of the ice ? The boy 
knew, as all familiar with the Bay knew, that 
about the base of this rocky bluff, dashed and 
eddied dangerous and treacherous currents. Sure- 
ly, he thought, no local party was now entangled 
in its dark meshes. This was the spot which, 
upon two former occasions, had left Greenshore 
homes mourning. 

As he made one last desperate attempt to eat 
up the remaining distance to the lad came a 
thought — a half-memory — which staggered him. 
To be sure — the first cry for aid had been given in 
a woman’s high, shrill voice, and the one whose 
echo had scarcely died away was that of a male — a 
strong voice — pitched high with terror and — had 
not the last word been incomplete — as if some- 
thing — water — may have cut off the summons? 
What about the woman? Was it too late also to 
give succor to the male if it were possible to reach 
213 


‘‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

a position advantageous to rescue work? Then 
suddenly from the boy's fevered mind all specula- 
tion vanished. He was face to face with the is- 
sue. 

By digging the point of a “dragging" skate deep 
into the ice, he brought himself to a halt with but 
inches to spare. Water stood a full half inch over 
the surface of the ice at his feet and before him 
was a stretch of foaming water, dotted here and 
there with cakes of ice. The cadet, eyes bulging 
and pulses racing, knew that he was upon the 
scene of the disaster. Feverishly he tore the 
skates from his shoes, though no course of pro- 
cedure had manifested itself to him, as all was 
quiet and no sign of the unfortunate person could 
he see. Loudly, eagerly, frantically, he called. 
The ripple of the waters as they swished against 
the sides of the stone bluff formed his sole answer. 
Then — 

Off came the cadet blouse and the next instant 
he flung himself into the icy depths before him. 
The mere gurgling sound somewhere out in the 
black space before him had been sufficient to set 
his objective. Someone still clung to life out 
there — ^how feebly, the sound had clearly reveal- 
ed. Fighting silently, determinedly, through the 
214 


VALOR REDEEMS. 

freezing liquid which seemed to threaten to hard- 
en the very marrow in his bones, evading a float- 
ing ice block whenever it did not detour his course 
too much, savagely and laboriously pushing it 
aside when it did, this stout-hearted boy battled 
in a way that would have done credit to a man 
many years his senior. 

Not even the stars were out to light or cheer his 
way. It was a silent fight of a perfect young body 
and a noble young heart against terrific odds and 
mocking natural powers — all grimly and doggedly 
and unselfishly done in the splendid cause of hu- 
man service. 

Once, while trying to make his way between two 
ice floats, he caught sight of a bobbing head a few 
yards away. He called out and only a groan came 
in reply. One stroke nearer and he saw that one 
v/hite hand clung to a dark object of some de- 
scription and the other to a strip of ice and, what 
set his pulse beating anew with hope, stoutened 
his heart with fresh determination, was the fact 
that the icy edge belonged not to a float but was 
the beginning of solid going. The black object he 
now knew to be the body of the woman whose 
scream he had first heard. Evidently she was 
insensible to transpiring events and the same was 
215 


‘‘SKEETER^' McCOY 

almost true of her would-be rescuer, by whose he- 
roic, half-frozen, nearly bloodless arm she was 
held. 

“Hold just a minute more, friend,” the boy sang 
out. ^Tll soon give you a lift.” His jaws creak- 
ed and his teeth clamped after each word, but he 
put as much cheer into them as his poor control 
over speech permitted. All the while he battled, 
kicked and struggled against the merciless pull 
and counterpull upon his legs. If only he had 
skated a little further to the right ! Then he would 
have been able simply to reach over and complete 
the already nearly made rescue by the unknown 
man whose strength was spent and consciousness 
all but gone. As it was, he had simply blundered 
into the same trap as they and must needs make 
the same fight and come through in shape to save 
not only himself, but them. He must make good 
their failure! Could he do it? He thought these 
torturing thoughts as he struggled — ^now gaining 
a yard—now being jerked back a foot by the al- 
most — ^he pictured them thus — Satanic forces at 
work beneath the surface. It seemed to his 
numbed consciousness that he had struggled there 
for an age but in reality several minutes only had 
216 


VALOR REDEEMS. 

elapsed since first his joyful recreation had been 
broken by the startling cry for aid. 

A sudden gigantic jerk at his waist — a revolv- 
ing motion which spun him about as if he were a 
mere twig and then a more gradual, powerful, suc- 
tion-like drawing — against which his waning 
stamina was as nil — chilled his heart with the 
knowledge that he too was to fail. As if to empha- 
size this combined feeling of utter hopelessness 
and helplessness, there came a final churning, 
twisting pull — he felt that it was over — ^his was 
not to conquer — his hands would not further aid 
the other two unfortunates so near yet so hope- 
lessly far. If they were saved some fresher, 
sterner stuff must answer the call. And himself 
— what of it ? Had he not given his best ? He had 
set out to rescue, not to ask aid. If this was to 
be his lot — well — 

The water was in his ears — over him — ^filled his 
nostrils — was choking him. Down, down, down — 
how deep was the place, anyhow? He realized 
that his arms were still flaying about — intuition 
— that was all. His legs — no, they were quiet, 
held vice-like. 

Only for an instant did this spirit of resignation 
possess him. All at once his whole being rebelled 
217 


“SKEETER^^ McCOY 

against such a fate. Life called afresh its joys— 
its sweetness to him and his half-dead body re- 
sponded as best it could. As he strained gallantly 
yet, in reality, feebly, in battle with that deadly, 
octopus-like undercurrent which already had two 
known victims to its gruesome record and a gold- 
en chance to make an addition of three, the pano- 
rama inevitably presented to drowning persons, 
began to unfold its mocking reel. 

Boyhood days spent in Maine — days abounding 
with the many pleasures of his uncle's farm — with 
swimming, boating and trout-fishing in the won- 
derful brook which wound its way through the 
lower meadow. And those winter nights! The 
sound of merry voices upon pond and hill came 
afresh to his ears — the jingle of the bells and the 
crunch of the wooden runners as laughing boys 
and dimpled, blushing girls shared alike the straw 
in the bottom of the long, roughly made sledge. 

The quieter joys of this New England home — 
the cozy chimney corner — Uncle, tall, broad, 
serene, incessantly pulling at the little clay pipe 
which seemed almost a part of him. How his 
watery, blue eyes shone and danced beneath brows 
of snowy- white as he joked and talked and sang! 
And such a voice — a cross between the roar of a 
218 


VALOR REDEEMS. 

lion and the call of a whip-o-will — a voice which 
caught and charmed all that heard it — a laugh 
which was contagious and spread smiles as does 
the rainbow. 

And that gentlest of beings — the wee Aunty, 
whose smile and caress were valued by those be- 
fore the snapping and glowing logs as highly as 
were her cocoa and goodies. 

Another face — dear little, brown-haired Cousin 
Nell — as fine a pal — 

The reel slipped. 

The first few months at Greenshore — and then 
— . The reel merely crept along now — its 
hideous and searing picture reflected every cruel 
detail. The soul of him who saw cringed and suf- 
fered and knew infinite regret, but with the suffer- 
ing came an awakening. And with the arousing 
of the inner being came a final tremendous ef- 
fort from the physical man. Gone were the 
weights from his ankles and his body shot up- 
wards through water that was still — calm — unre- 
sisting. He was free ! He had run the gauntlet 
of the bluff current and won ! 

The first bite of the night air upon his face and 
the first rasping burning of it in his lungs as he 
came to the surface gave elixir to life and heat to 
219 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

hope. He shook himself as would a collie and des- 
perately fought to pierce the darkness about him. 
Self again was forgotten. Six feet directly ahead 
was the goal. To the icy fringe the white hand 
still hung but even as the desperate swimmer 
made his first mighty stroke — there came a faint 
murmur and a gentle disturbance in the water and 
the hand was gone. 

How he accomplished it, even he cannot tell. 
The quick dive, the groping for and the contact 
with two sinking forms — the superhuman expen- 
diture of energy which brought all three to the 
surface — ^yes — placed two safely upon the icy edge 
and then allowed him — with dancing fires before 
his eyes, but paralyzing chill in his entire aching 
body, to pull upwards, slip back, pull again — dig 
bloody and scraped finger-tips into firm ice — claw 
for purchase hold with frozen, unfeeling knees — 
fall forward to safety in a crumpled, insensible 
heap beside those whom he had served — all this 
was never to be told. 

The act was done. The challenge of the foam- 
ing swirl at the foot of the bluff had been answer- 
ed and victory from that sinister, deceptive source 
had been wrested. 

There was no one to applaud. There was no one 
220 


VALOR REDEEMS. 

to protect the victors from the new dangers which 
hovered, and swept and whistled about them. 
Their garments stiffened with each passing in- 
stant. 

It may have been anger at missing its prey or 
it may have been glee at witnessing the final halt- 
ing of the freezing three — ^that caused the nearby 
water to sing weirdly and dance grotesquely back 
and forth and around and around in the silence 
and horror of the death-dealing night. 

:ic:(c,ic4:*4(4!>K9K« 

“But Roy, old pal, how did Miss Vail happen to 
be skating near that place? True, she has been 
living in Greenshore only a short while but some- 
one must have told her of the history of that pool.” 
Jack Snowden, sitting by the side of Templeton’s 
little cot in the school infirmary, took advantage 
of the first leniency of “Mother” Hardy to draw 
the stirring story from his fast recuperating 
friend and chum. Two days had elapsed since 
the accident and heroism which now was known 
throughout the state. Both Templeton and the 
girl whom he had attempted to save were doing 
finely and no really serious effects of their terrible 
exposure had been manifested. 

“She wasn’t skating. Jack. Her mother was ill 
221 


^‘SKEETER’^ McCOY 

and a sudden change for the worse sent her scurry- 
ing for Doctor Shirley. In order to save time she 
dashed across the neck of the Bay and, losing her 
sense of direction, headed straight for the bluff. 
I had just come from the Academy and was in the 
act of putting on my skates at the extreme lower 
end of the Bay when I heard her scream. But I 
was not equal to the task and the jig would surely 
have been up if a real hero had not been ushered 
upon the scene.” Templeton glanced over toward 
the neighboring cot. Its occupant, face still 
flushed with fever, was restlessly awakening. 
Roy’s face was grave with respect and admira- 
tion which, together with thanksgiving, were 
manifested in his voice as he spoke : 

‘'Hey, you old Eskimo! First time IVe seen 
you look at all sensible. Shake !” 

The fever had left no room for a flush of joy 
but the eyes burned and the heart bounded as 
across the intervening distance “Shad” Thomas 
— shook. 


222 


CHAPTER XV. 


The Mite Does His Bit. 

T he dual indoor track meet with Carlton 
Academy was in full blast. Ever since 
seven in the evening the keenest sort of 
competition had been afforded the large gathering 
of people who had crowded and jammed their way 
into all sitting or standing space within the arm- 
ory in Greenshore village. 

The events were being run with precision and 
perfect order. Well-known officials had the affair 
in hand and every care and precaution was being 
taken that the winner of the beautiful silver cup, 
reposing temptingly on an oak table in the center 
of the floor with the medals for individual triumph 
should hear no echo of wrangling or dispute to 
mar the joy of possession. 

In the cadets' dressing quarters, all was bustle 
and excitement. The atmosphere was ladened 
with the smell of liniment, being vigorously ap- 
plied by perspiring darkey rubbers. “Plush," 
sleeves rolled high, stopped in the act of adjusting 
223 


‘^SKEETER^^ McCOY 

an elastic bandage on “Mike” Leslie's weak left 
ankle : 

“Say you — Peters! Get out of that draught 
and hustle into a robe. Forget that last race. 
You'll qualify in the next, that is if you don't sit 
there on that bench and stiffen like a dead mack- 
erel. Get a move, there !'' 

The down-hearted youngster who had failed to 
win a place in the intermediate fifty-yard dash, 
caught the spirit of his mentor and sprang to obey 
the order. 

A brisk young man with a megaphone appeared 
suddenly at the door : 

“All out for the senior one hundred yards !'' 

“Plush” slapped Leslie on the shoulder. Off 
came the bathrobe. A perfect young specimen 
the boy was — slight of build — well-rounded limbs, 
the muscles of which played rhythmically beneath 
the healthy pink skin. 

“Go to it, boy,” the coach said as he gently 
pushed Greenshore's star sprinter towards the 
door. 

“Come, ‘Lonzy,' get busy there on Templeton. 
Hurdles next 1” 

“Plush,” unlike most coaches, seldom allowed 
himself the privilege of seeing his boys in com- 
224 


THE MITE DOES HIS BIT. 
petitive action upon the floor. He considered his 
place back of the screen where he made sure that 
only perfectly tuned and developed lads should an- 
swer the starter^s pistol and every athlete who 
passed from his presence to the proving ground 
was charged to the highest point of determination 
by the very magnetism of his personality. 

Roy lazily took his place upon the rubbing board. 
‘*Lonzy,” Greenshore's good old black guardian of 
muscles and eradicator of pains, grinned from ear 
to ear as his nimble fingers began to play rapidly 
over the well-knit body. 

‘‘Yes, sah,” and he nodded his little old wooHy 
head in an emphatic way. “I sho am guine ter fix 
you up. Mister Roy. We jest bound ter take dot 
old tea-pot back up on dat hill. Yas, sah! Old 
‘Lonzy' guine cast a spell over dese laigs. Dere 
now 

The report of a pistol — intermittent screams 
and hand-clapping — a spasmodic roar — a Green- 
shore roar. No need to listen for the announcer's 
verdict. “Mike" Leslie once more had showed his 
heels to the adversary. 

Little squeals and chuckles of delight came from 
all corners of the dressing room but no one stop- 
225 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

ped a moment in the preparations for the re- 
maining tests on the program. 

All well knew that, despite the five points which 
Leslie's triumph had added to Greenshore's total, 
Carlton still held a three point lead and that she 
was strongly represented in the remaining events. 
It was to be a nip and tuck affair. ‘Tlush” made 
that clear. Therefore no one success was allowed 
to detract from the main issue — the winning of 
the cup. 

The victor in the event just run trotted, beam- 
ing, into the room. A lusty, applauding chorus 
greeted him : 

“Y-e-a L-e-s-l-i-e!" 

A junior sprang to throw a robe about him. 
Several hands reached out and squeezed — ever so 
hard. ‘Tine, boy!” came from the coach. That 
was all. 

The call came for hurdles. Greenshore, headed 
by Templeton, captured second and third places, 
poor start robbed Roy of the verdict by inches 
only. Carlton had increased her lead by another 
notch. 

Out in the center of the chalked oval, realizing 
the crying need for points, “Socks” Taylor was 
throwing his all into the shot-put event. His first 
226 


r 


THE MITE DOES HIS BIT. 
put had astounded the spectators and brought joy 
to the cadets. Instantly they, as well as exper- 
ienced sportsmen in the galleries, conceded the 
event to the Greenshore boy. Shouts of glee 
echoed over the building when Merrilatt, Carlton’s 
best bet according to public opinion, failed to hurl 
the iron ball within six inches of Taylor’s mark. 
‘‘Jack” Snowden was still a greater failure. 

Then from the mists of obscurity strode a tall, 
awkward looking individual, wearing the Lemon 
and Black of Carlton Academy. With a niove- 
ment as free and, apparently, unrestrained as that 
of a locomotive drive shaft, he hurled the missile 
a full foot past the mark which testified to Green- 
shore’s best. 

An exclamation of surprise burst forth from 
over the entire hall — then, en masse, they arose — 
friend and foe alike — and cheered the wonderful 
performance. 

Though each competitor strove desperately in 
his other trials to overtake or cut down the mar- 
gin, as the case might be, the event was really 
over with the spending of that remarkable effort. 
Greenshore secured but three points to her rival’s 
six. “Elephant” Montcure, an unknown, had, in a 
moment of supreme inspiration, gained admittance 
227 


‘‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

for all time to the hearts of those who held dear 
the glory of Carlton Academy. 

Back in the cadet headquarters, the announce- 
ment brought first silence. Then the Greenshore 
war spirit made itself evident. ‘Tlush” at once 
supplied the necessary balm and ginger: 

“That means that we must take the relay, boys. 
K we don't, we are goners. If we do, we still have 
an outside shot. Now listen to me, you beggars — 
you. Reeves, Boyton, Douglas, Lewis ! That bunch 
out there have their hearts in their boots. They're 
still back of you like a ton of brick but they need a 
tonic. Give it to 'em. If you care a rap for 
them — for the school — for the old man, show your 
tootsies to that bunch of truck horses. There 
goes the call ! Now get out there and step on that 
chalk! Pull in just a little on the turns and stay 
off the banks! You're fit. Prove it!" 

Such a race as it was! Time and again bril- 
liant work brought the crowd to their feet, madly 
yelling and calling to the different favorites as,’ 
with flying feet and bulging eyes, they strove to 
cover the distance. Fortune and misfortune tried 
desperately but vainly to. outdo each other and rob 
sport of the right of decision. 

Reeves, gaining a splendid start, soon took the 
228 


THE MITE DOES HIS BIT. 
inside track and pulled away slightly from his op- 
ponent. This advantage he held until the last 
turn when he slipped and fell. A gasp went up 
from the cadets. 

When he again got under way his man was 
fifteen yards in the van. Hearing the disconcert- 
ing news ‘Tlush'’ could not hold himself in check 
and rushed from the dressing quarters to the edge 
of the track. He waited until the fiying boy was 
opposite him : 

‘‘Go after him — ^boy V* he pleaded. 

With aching lungs, bruised knees, rumbling 
ears, the boy drove himself on — grimly — as if life 
itself depended upon giving w^hat the soft, en- 
treating voice of his coach had asked. 

For the second time the last turn was reached. 
Now but ten yards separated the runners. Down 
the home stretch they sped towards the two fresh 
men who impatiently danced and held out mutely 
imploring hands for the touch. 

Away dashed Sloan of Carlton. He had gone 
but a few strides when he heard the pounding feet 
of Boyton close behind. Two beautiful runners 
they were and evenly matched, so that the com- 
pletion of the first lap saw no appreciable differ- 
ence in their relative positions. 

229 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

However, on the far turn of the final lap, the 
value of scientific and experienced coaching was 
strikingly illustrated and emphasized. Sloan 
struck the curve with scantily diminished speed 
which swung him far out into the track. Instant- 
ly the Greenshore boy took the inside track and 
when the straight-a-way was again reached, the 
Blue and White jersey was several yards in ad- 
vance. 

Sloan, game lad, with a brilliant burst of speed, 
endeavored to retrieve the loss which his blunder 
had brought to his colors. He partially succeed- 
ed, too, for a scant yard separated Douglas from 
his pace-setter as they took the cork. 

Douglas gave his best while the cadet corps beg- 
ged and beseeched, and ‘Tlush,” running here and 
there to be close to his charge as he swept by, pur- 
red softly and fervently to him. But nature had 
endowed the opponent more heavily with both 
speed and stamina, and white, spent, sobbing, 
Douglas sent Harry Lewis off under a twelve yard 
handicap. 

Then for fifty-six seconds bedlam broke loose in 
that ancient armory. Lewis, with his eyes focus- 
ed upon the chalk line as it straightened and 
wound and straightened beneath his flying rubber 
230 


THE MITE DOES HIS BIT. 
soles, remembering every little note of advice giv- 
en by *Tlush,” paid absolutely no heed to his op- 
ponent. 

The first straight stretch brought no gain, nor 
did the second, but on the following turn Lewis cut 
the lead to ten yards. In this position, they be- 
gan the last lap. A false step and the gap lessen- 
en perceptibly. Then the thrill of the evening! 

Moore, of Carlton, through a sort of panic in- 
duced by the increasing nearness of the pursuing 
feet which could not be drawn away from, became 
unsteady on the last bend and crashed, face down- 
ward, upon the floor. 

Lewis could not save himself. Side by side the 
boys sprawled, legs digging at the rosined floor 
for a purchase hold as they strove to arise. Up 
they came, almost simultaneously and jumped into 
their stride — a heart-rending sprint to the tape, 
sixty yards away. 

Harry cut down the two-foot lead of Moore be- 
fore a quarter of the distance had been covered. 
But strive and strain as he might he could not 
take the lead. The boys’ shoulders rubbed twen- 
ty yards from the finish. 

Between red flashes, Lewis saw the cord — saw 
the burning eyes and open mouth of ‘Tlush” — 
231 


^^SKEETER^' McCOY 

heard his name screamed by a multitude of im- 
ploring voices. The floor seemed to be giving way 
beneath him. He closed his eyes and sent his last 
atom of strength into the downward stroke of 
his left leg and tried to leap as it struck the boards. 
Then the lights in the armory went out ! 

In a corner of the dressing room, from which he 
had unceremoniously ousted and barred the wild- 
ly jubilant and clamoring admirers, ‘Tlush” took 
the sponge from the boy's lips as his eye-lids 
twitched convulsively — opened : 

‘'You did it — ^boy — ^by inches. Greatest flnish 
I ever saw. You jumped into the tape — ^you — 
boy — ^jumped!” 

The boy smiled and attempted weakly to raise 
his head. 

“No — not yet. Take it quiet, laddie,” the coach 
said gently and worlds of feeling, tenderness and 
regard were in his voice, as he replaced Harry's 
head in his lap and stroked the damp fore-head 
and brow. 

There the pair remained through the excite- . 
ment and feverish anxiety of the five remaining 
events. As the reports were brought in they jot- 
ted down the count. 

“Wally” Rapp took first place in the high jump 
232 


THE MITE DOES HIS BIT. 
but Carlton made a clean sweep of the other four 
points. 

‘‘One point ! Think of it, boy ! Only one point 
to knock off.” ‘‘Flush’s” old, battle-scarred hand 
trembled as he made the count. 

“Yep,” chirped Lewis, delightedly, now in a 
half-reclining position against a locker door. 
“Forty-seven to forty-six !> We’ll get ’em yet. 
Sh— ” 

The megaphone boomed its harsh message : 

“Senior pole-vault — won by Adamson — second, 
Snowden third, Templeton. Height — ” A 
Carlton yell drowned further announcement. 

“Too bad — too bad. That gives ’em another.’^ 
“Plush” turned his blinking old gray eyes away 
and seemingly became busy with his pad. 

“Fifty-two to fifty,” murmured Lewis. 

A pistol shot reverberated through the room. 
Neither boy nor coach spoke. In the distant cor- 
ners of the locker room what few athletes yet re- 
mained to participate — mostly juniors — ^became 
hushed. Several minutes passed. 

“It’s the eight-eighty,” whispered “Plush.” 
“Come on you good little Roberts !” 

A mad clamor arose without but it was so dem- 
233 


^‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

ocratic and cosmopolitan that it gave no key to the 
verdict. Again the megaphone spoke : 

‘‘Eight-eighty yard run — won by, Farrell — sec- 
ond, Roberts — third. Snow.” 

The Carlton contingent made known their joy. 
Another point gained and but two events remain- 
ing ! “Plush” moved his pencil but said nothing. 

“Fifty-seven to fifty-four. Say, coach, if Davis 
or Souder cop the four-forty, the kid sixty will de- 
cide it!” 

“Lonzy!” The coach’s voice fairly barked the 
word. 

“Yas, sah, boss. I knows it — I knows it,” the 
,old negro moaned. 

“Cut it, you black rascal! Come help me load 
my last shot. Get busy there on McCoy.” 

“Yas, sah, boss — ^yas, sah — ^li’le ‘Skeeter,’ sah. 
Ole ‘Lonzy’ fix li’le ‘Skeeter,’ sah.” It was evi- 
dent that the loyal old soul’s hope had been but 
slightly revived by the suggestion that so wee a 
personage might be the agency through which a 
Greenshore victory might materialize. But he 
went diligently to his task never dreaming that 
the pounding little heart so near to his deft old 
black fingers was filled to overflowing with the 
234 


THE MITE DOES HIS BIT. 
realization and courage which the hour demand- 
ed. 

Davis captured five points in the senior quarter- 
mile and Souder barely nosed out Winters, of Carl- 
ton, for third place. The meet was tied, each 
school laying claim to sixty points! Never had 
these ancient rivals hooked up in such a struggle 
and, to add to the furor and tensity of the mo- 
ment, stood the fact that upon the untried nerv- 
ous, junior athletes, each school must depend for 
the rescue of her banner from the dust of defeat. 

The junior sixty-yard event was called. The 
announcer made clear to the audience the magni- 
tude of the burden carried by the tender young 
shoulders. Loud and long the house cried its en- 
couragement — manifested that nothing appeals 
more strongly to the sentiment of sport than just 
such a situation. 

McCoy, ‘‘Whitey” Snowden, and stubby little 
Harrison, with the prayers of the coach and the 
school ringing in their ears, reported to the start- 
er. 

Bang I They were off. ‘"Skeeter” was the only 
Greenshore lad to make a faultless get-a-way. 
With little head back — fair hair streaming in the 
wind — he raced neck and neck with Bobby Bar- 
235 


“SKEETER^^ McCOY 

ton, diminutive representative of the Lemon and 
Black. Were ever stout little hearts and chubby 
little legs before intrusted with an issue so vital? 

At the forty-yard mark ‘‘Skeeter” knew it was 
now or never and he spared no faculty. Faster 
and faster he flew and his courageous little heart 
jumped and expanded with joy as he pulled six 
inches ahead of the weakening ‘‘Bobby” and felt 
the cord snap under the impress of his heaving 
little chest. 

“Plush” caught him and lifted him to his arms. 
The Greenshore “locomotive” roared her praise to 
the mite who had done his bit. 

Poor, flushed little Barton reached up a true 
sportsman^s hand even as the Carlton cheer-leader 
called for homage to the game little lad who had 
drawn the loser's card. And as the happy cadets 
bore the young hero to his dressing room, Tem- 
pleton, close by, winked approvingly. 

No individual triumph of his own had ever so 
stirred the very innermost recesses of his heart 
as had the winning of that junior sixty-yard dash. 

At the curtained entrance of the now turbulent 
dressing room, old “Lonzy” stood. Tears of joy 
eddied over his wrinkled black face and with his 
hands he held high a large silver cup. 

236 


CHAPTER XVI. 


From Out The Past. 

M any weeks after the skating accident in 
which “Shad” Thomas and Templeton 
had played so prominent a part, Roy, 
coming from a recitation in Infantry Drill Regula- 
tions, found a letter in his mail-box. It was ad- 
dressed in a fine, fiowing hand unknown to him. 
Curiously he tore open the envelope and read. 

So comical was his expression of astonishment 
that the Quarter-master, behind the tier of glass- 
fronted boxes, having seen the missive and formed 
his own conclusion when it was first handed to 
him by the postman, jokingly sought to get Roy's 
“goat.” 

“She's changed her style, old fellow, from back- 
hand to Spencerian, eh ?” 

“Guess again, Pete, you boob,” laughed the 
other. “This is a different lady.” 

“Ah, I see. The coming breath of spring has — 
ah — fanned anew the all-but-dead fiame of a form- 
er and older — ah — afflict — ah, I mean — er — affec- 
237 


“SKEETER^’ McCOY 

tion. So! Well, it^s bad for the other but—” 

‘‘Awe, shut up, you crazy clown. Go and sell 
your little pads and pens.” A freshman had come 
into the office and was awaiting the quarter-mas- 
ter’s attention. 

“Ah, yes — and as to the stationery — school de- 
sign, of course — lavender or violet? And how 
about the perfume? Shall it be — ah — er — ?” 
But he spoke only to a fast retreating form. 
Templeton well knew of “Pete” Hershman’s ready 
fund of wit and his delight to banter and he was 
taking no chances. 

Having, after quite a sprint, arrived behind the 
closed door of his own quarters, Templeton drew 
the letter from the inside pocket of his blouse and 
re-read it. It ran thus : 

“My Dear Mr. Templeton : 

“Please pardon the privilege which I am taking 
in thus addressing you. During the past winter 
you made a noble effort in my behalf and, having 
just learned today that I am in a position to offer 
a feeble reparation and at the same time aright 
a deep wrong, I would appreciate a visit from you 
at our home, at which time I will explain fully 
238 


FROM OUT THE PAST, 
what might be taken as effrontery and coquetry 
from a stranger. 

‘'Very sincerely yours, 

“Ada Vail.^^ 

“Well, I hope ‘Shad’ may shoot me I” exclaimed 
the puzzled boy. “Reparation? Lot of that ar- 
ticle I deserve for giving my friend Thomas the 
opportunity to pull two instead of one saturated 
party out of the Bay ! However, I catch the lady’s 
hallucination on that subject, but I’ll be fiddled if 
I can follow her as she drifts into the question of 
a deep wrong. I thought we both drifted into a 
deep air-hole.” 

Templeton was not at all excited over the con- 
tents of the missive, but it did arouse his curiosity 
and he decided to lose no time in satisfying that 
yearning. As he thought of Hershman’s pun, he 
smiled, and then he thought of the girl who wrote 
in the back-hand style. “Fine little Katherine,” 
he murmured, studying the small oval likeness up- 
on his mantel. “The best pal a fellow ever had.” 

It was no secret among his intimate associates 
that Templeton had long since made his final 
choice and that the “no trespass” sign had been 
hung over the entrance to his affections. And 
his friends applauded his judgment in this matter 
239 


‘‘SKEETER’’ McCOY 

as they did in many others, and well they might ! 
Several occasions — big social events upon Green- 
shore's very conservative schedule — Katherine 
Loraine had enlivened by her charming, yet retir- 
ing, presence, and the simplicity and sincerity of 
her nature, her merry laughter, the sunshine of 
her face — made beautiful by its very winsome- 
ness — all combined, formed a personage and a per- 
sonality which impressed and refreshed all with 
whom she came in contact. 

Recall from study sounded. Templeton came 
out of his reverie and another passion of spring, 
though less intense, .gripped him. Base ball! 
What a tonic for every red-blooded American boy I 
Simultaneously, each year, with the song of the 
lark, the opening of young buds and the shooting 
of green blades, comes, throughout the land, the 
sound of bat against ball and the shriek of the 
‘Tan." Greenshore's 'Varsity had been hard at 
work for several weeks and already two practice 
games had found the right side of the ledger. 

As Templeton dived into his togs, all other 
thoughts took rapid wing. Today the local high 
school boys were carded to exhibit their wares 
upon Academy field and “Plush" had assigned Roy, 
240 


FROM OUT THE PAST, 
first-string twirler, to put a crimp into their am- 
bitions for glory. 

This was no hard matter, as the public school- 
ers, though over-charged with *^pep” and deter- 
mination, felt their confidence waning and hopes 
vanishing as, inning by inning, they cut futile 
swaths in the atmosphere as the Greenshore lead- 
er fed defeat's potion. 

‘Tiush," wise old guiding spirit, had tabooed 
curves and put the curtail on speed, fearing the 
result of over-strenuous early-season work. But 
he offered no check upon the batting aspirations 
and proclivities of his charges, as Pitcher Walters, 
Greenshore High, would willingly testify. 

At the close of the fifth frame, the cadets had 
amassed a total of eight runs and had, in turn, 
kept the enemy from the registration headquart- 
ers. The opening of the sixth inning found Jimmy 
Pond in the box for the Academy lads and Temple- 
ton in the locker-room. It is needless to follow 
further the reverses of the villagers. 

Eight o'clock in the evening found Roy upon 
the front porch of the modest little home on 
Beechwood street. Miss Vail, herself, answered 
the ring. She did not hesitate long in plunging 
into the subject which had evidently caused her 
241 


^^SKEETER” McCOY 

great agitation. The first embarrassed greeting 
being over and mother, daughter and visitor being 
seated in the bare, dimly lighted parlor, the girl 
began in slightly trembling voice : 

‘‘Mr. Templeton, the message which I am about 
to deliver to you will, no doubt, shock you and at 
the same time engender within you a loathing 
for one very dear to mother and me.” She paus- 
ed and tears of mortification stood in her eyes. 
Templeton, perplexed and absolutely at a loss for 
words, merely nodded and leaned slightly forward. 

'‘Won’t you endeavor to be as lenient in your 
judgment as you possibly can be after hearing the 
case in all its details?” She almost pleaded the 
query. 

‘T certainly will, though I must confess that I 
have no inkling of the matter which is troubling 
you.” 

Miss Vail seemed a trifle relieved, though Tem- 
pleton could easily discern that she fairly fought 
for self-composure as she doggedly resumed the 
story : 

"My father, Densmere Vail, some ten years ago, 
was a practicing attorney in the town of Elm 
Glade, not far distant from your native town. 

242 


FOUND OUT THE PAST. 

You, no doubt, have heard many times in your 
home, the name of Thomas Loraine.” 

Templeton started. His dark eyes narrowed 
perceptibly. It was with difficulty that his rising 
anger was kept within bounds and under cover. 
Above his collar line surged a vivid wave. In- 
stantly, he changed from a mystified listener into 
a man alert — upon the defensive. He could 
fathom no cause for such an intrusion upon his 
personal affairs. 

The girl noticed the transformation and her face 
took on a puzzled expression. Feeling a sort of 
newly born antagonism in the attitude of the oth- 
er, she made haste to continue : 

‘‘You have heard the name, I see, and I trust 
that I have not, unintentionally and blunderingly 
offended you. Pray hear me out as you promised 
and then I will have done my duty, regardless of 
the cost to mother and me.” 

“You have my attention, miss.” The flushed 
young cadet spoke in the tones of gentlemanly 
aloofness. 

“Thank you. I shall be as brief as possible. 
Mr. Loraine was a client of my father's and also 
a very warm friend of your father.” The boy 
merely kept an unwavering eye upon the speaker. 

243 


^^SKEETER” McCOY 

‘‘Mr. Loraine was a very wealthy man. His 
fortune was made in lumber and he possessed vast 
tracts of Maine timber-land. At the time of 
which I am speaking he was preparing for an ex- 
tended trip of inspection of his holdings. Just 
before departing northward he handed a small 
manilla envelope, sealed with wax, to my father 
and gave him orders, in the event of his failure to 
return to his home, to deliver the envelop to your 
father.” 

Templeton’s face was a study. The flush had 
subsided. In its stead was a mixture of pain and 
eagerness. Katherine’s name had not been men- 
tioned but he realized that some revelation of a 
link, to him hitherto unknown, in his lamented 
and revered father’s life, was about to be made. 

**Go on,” he murmured, huskily. 

‘'That sealed packet was never delivered to your 
father, Mr. Templeton.” Mother and daughter 
showed visibly the grief which accompanied the 
confession. But, heroically, groping for a partial 
defense of her own dead, the girl struggled on : 

“Father, at the time, was deeply engrossed in 
state politics and, by some trivial obstruction to 
his ambitions, your father gained his displeas- 
ure. No doubt his delay in performing his duty 
244 


FROM OUT THE PAST, 
may be traced to that misunderstanding. I am 
sure that my father, quick of temper, but easily 
appeased, would have soon allowed his true self to 
dominate and followed Mr. Loraine's last instruc- 
tion. It was his last, as the unfortunate man, 
contracting pneumonia in one of his camps in the 
far north, passed away.” 

Roy was cut to the quick by the quiet sobbing 
of the aged mother. Torn but determined, the 
girl did not pause. 

‘'Mother knew nothing of this matter until 
three days ago when, in glancing through an old 
ledger which father had used as a book for clip- 
pings pertaining to political matters, she came 
across the envelope with the inscription as writ- 
ten by Mr. Loraine.” 

“The name of Templeton seemed somehow fa- 
miliar to her and she asked me if that was not the 
name of the young man who had so nearly lost his 
life in attempting to save mine. And, ah, we 
have been so grateful to you, sir!” The almost 
tragic recital was suddenly and emphatically in- 
terrupted by this outburst of thanksgiving. Roy 
squirmed under it for he was one who could not 
take credit for any action, however nobly intend- 
ed, which terminated in failure, and failure was 
245 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

the name he applied to his part in the skating ac- 
cident. 

“Both you and I owe all to Cadet Thomas,” he 
made haste to say. 

“You owe all to Mr. Thomas — that is true, Mr. 
Templeton — ^but I am equally indebted to you both, 
fine as it is for you to deny it.” A piquant twinkle 
shone through the tears. 

“I cannot agree with you,” he said. 

“Then I must insist upon agreeing with myself, 
and I am pleased to say that mother also shares 
my opinion.” 

Templeton, baffled, remained silent. 

“We investigated,” she began after an awkward 
pause, “and found that you were the son. So I 
sent for you, thinking, perhaps, that you could 
better tell the story to your mother. Our inves- 
tigation told that — ” She hesitated and infinite 
tenderness was in her voice. “We found that the 
victim as well as his wronger had passed on.” 

Templeton bowed his head in his hands and for 
a few moments no sound broke the stillness of the 
room save the squeak of the mother's chair as she 
rocked back and forth in a tempest of feeling. 
Presently Miss Vail arose and left the room. She 
was gone but a few moments. 

246 


FROM OUT THE PAST. 

*'Mr. Templeton/^ she said, and there was a fine 
dignity to her poise, ''this is the letter. For the 
wrong action of a father his daughter attempts 
to atone, and to the son goes the rightful belong- 
ing of a victimized father. To us the case is clos- 
ed. We have done our best to erase from a mem- 
ory, hallowed to us, a mistake of the past, and now 
we will do our best to forget, and pray you that 
you do your best to forgive.” 

Then, ever so gently, as would a child weary 
from play, she sank upon the arm of her mother’s 
chair and, ever so tenderly, stroked the white 
ringlets which crowned the drooping head. 

Templeton arose, cap and packet in hand, and, 
moistening his dry lips, tried manfully to equal 
the moment : 

"Miss Vail — Mrs. Vail — I do not know the na- 
ture of the contents of this envelope. I do not 
care. I only know that your action tonight will 
ever be an inspiration to me when I have really 
great battles to fight. I have been strengthened 
by our meeting, brought about through strange 
coincidence. I trust that my mother may soon be 
honored by your presence at our home. Good- 
night.” 


247 


^‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

Templeton snapped on the light in his room and 
broke the wax on the time-faded envelope. 

‘Tor the sake of favors past performed.” 

That one line upon an otherwise blank sheet of 
paper caused the boy^s hand to shake violently 
and added haste to the scanning of the real doc- 
ument — a deed, signed by Thomas Loraine, con- 
veying, free of incumbrances, a plainly designated 
and mapped tract of four thousand acres of forest 
in far-off Maine. 

For five minutes Templeton held the document 
in his hand while he fixed his eyes upon a spot on 
his mantel. For fifteen additional minutes he sat 
by his study table and read and re-read the legal 
phrases before him. It was so! No more stint- 
ing by the dear little woman who, at that very 
moment, in a distant state, was asking blessing 
and protection for her absent boy. No more un- 
certainty as to plans for another year! To the 
happy cadet, fair Harvard was now a reality ! 

Templeton switched off the light and went down 
upon his knees. 


248 


CHAPTER XVII. 


The Last Stand. 

O VER by the Fairfield bench two boys firmly 
clasped hands and a twinkle was in the 
eye of each — a twinkle which was half 
challenge and half admiration. Captain Webb of 
the home team and Captain Templeton of Green- 
shore, had for four long years been the most in- 
tense school-boy rivals and over this span of hap- 
py years victories between the two were nearly 
even. Now, both boys in their senior year, the 
last clash was about to take place and each captain 
yearned that this final verdict might come his 
way. 

An incident to this battle, which but few knew 
yet, which added sentimental color to the pitting of 
prowess against prowess of these two clever 
young athletes, was the fact that each had de- 
cided, the coming Fall, to enter the same large 
Eastern university where, side by side, they were 
destined in years to come to support its gallant 
Crimson banners. 


249 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

But today it was different. Fairfield called 
loud to Webb for victory; Greenshore staked her 
all upon Templeton’s brawny right arm. Each 
vowed within himself that he would make good 
the confidence of his school. 

The first cordial greeting over, Webb introduc- 
ed Roy to the umpire, a middle-aged man, veter- 
an of many stirring league games. The few im- 
portant ground rules were explained and agreed 
upon. - 

‘‘All ready, boys ?” asked the umpire. 

“All ready. Let’s go!” 

Templeton patted his rival on the back and 
started on the jump for his bench. Webb raised 
his hand and, as if released from a barrier, the 
Fairfield boys sprang from the bench and darted 
to their playing positions. 

Little Roberts trotted from the' Greenshore 
bench, bat in hand, and took his place at the bat. 
From the stands came the Fairfield cheer for their 
team while Roberts, lead-off man, held a monopoly 
on Greenshore’s cheer leaders. 

Two fast flashes of the arm — an upward move- 
ment — hesitation — 

“Strike one!” 

Webb’s first shot had cut the heart of the plate. 

250 


THE LAST STAND. 

Roberts merely wiggled the spike of his left toe 
deeper into the soft earth about the plate. The 
second ball, delivered with apparently the same 
movement, looked good, and its “zip” outwards 
was seen too late for the little fellow to check his 
swing. 

“Strike two!” A slight flush mounted to the 
midget batter's face and he crouched a little low- 
er. Two curves, breaking wide of the plate, went 
by unnoticed. Eagerly the Greenshore lad, again 
on even terms, swung on the next pitch. A high, 
twisting foul, gleefully gobbled by “Fats” Mc- 
Guire, Fairfield back-stop, sent crest-fallen Rob- 
erts to the consoling wing of “Plush.” 

“That's the boy, ‘Webbie.' Go get 'em. This 
fellow's just as easy.” The Fairfield team, the 
first wave of nervousness gone, were keen for the 
fray. Nor had they failed in gauging Green- 
shore's second batter. “Tim” Keefe, beautiful 
sacrificer, was lamentably weak as a free hitter 
and was soon beside Roberts upon the bench. 

Jack Snowden took his position at bat, grim de- 
termination in the very set of his jaw. A change 
of expression could also be noticed on the face of 
Fairfield's twirler and a quaver of anxiety was 
heard in the shortstop's voice as he sang out: 

251 


‘‘SKEETER’’ McCOY 

‘‘Here's number three, ‘Webbie.’ Show him the 
old streak, boy.” 

Jack was known for miles around as a long dis- 
tance clouter — a man whose season's average was 
not above the ordinary, yet one whose extra-base 
wallops had decided many a conflict in favor of the 
Dark Blue and White. As he stood easily at the 
plate, shoulders slightly hunched and eyes fast- 
ened steadily upon the opposing pitcher, the out- 
flelders shifted deeper towards the fence, a wise 
move, as was soon proven. Webb, using all his 
cunning, had put it up to Snowden by bringing the 
count to two strikes and one ball. The next of- 
fering, a drop, was caught, half-developed, upon 
the end of Jack's long black bat. A tremendous 
blow it was, but also a remarkable catch. Center- 
flelder Berry, after a mad sprint, running with his 
back to the ball, captured the drive a foot from 
the fence. Greenshore's shriek of joy was stran- 
gled by amazement and Fairfield's followers went 
wild. 

As the cadet team took the field, Roy winked at 
Webb and jokingly said : 

“Close call, old boy. Better play 'em on the top 
of the fence for the rest of the game.” 

252 


THE LAST STAND. 

Webb, hurrying to his bench, stopped — grin- 
ned: 

“Thanks, old top. You^d do well to outfit your 
entire bunch with masks and also get a body pro- 
tector for yourself. They'll be singing back at 
you in a few minutes.” 

“Batter up !” “Umps” had dusted off the plate 
and was impatiently calling for a Fairfield batter. 

Leash, the tall, broad-shouldered left fielder of 
the home team, fouled twice in succession and 
then rolled a feeble “swinging bunt” to Roy and 
was easily retired at first. Fairfield's next bat- 
ter was over-anxious and struck at a high one, 
fouling out to Roberts at third. Roy was not so 
fortunate, however, with the next brace of hitters. 
McGuire laced the first ball pitched for a burning 
single to right. 

A passed ball by “Billie” Kemp gave the runner 
second base and a terrific drive by Lawrence to the 
left field boundary sent him across for a Fairfield 
tally while the batter drew up, panting, at third. 
Roy's teeth clicked. 

“Steady, pal. Get this one. Then we'll have 
a marathon all our own.” Snowden's quiet, 
cherry voice came from the direction of first base. 
No more “fast ones” did Templeton offer. Every 
253 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

one of the three balls delivered to the next batter 
were curves and each came up to the plate with 
blinding speed. “Chic"' Rapley swung at one — 
then stood impotently at the plate while the arbi- 
ter counted him out. 

Templeton had clearly misjudged the pudgy Mc- 
Guire and ‘'Sly'' Lawrence. He decided that the 
Fairfield boys had been trained to wait for the 
“cripples" or fast, straight balls, and he determin- 
ed to issue as few of these as possible during the 
remainder of the contest. 

“Good work, boy. We'll have to watch these 
chaps next turn around." “Plush" bundled a 
sweater about Roy's arm. The boy understood 
the mild rebuke in the coach's words. 

“Yes, sir. I was careless," he said as he took 
his seat. 

Snowden's “marathon" was doomed, at least, 
to be postponed. It was soon evident that Webb 
was having one of his really good days and that 
Greenshore, if she was to win, had real work cut 
out for her. 

Joe Mulvey and Harry Lewis fell easy victims 
to his puzzling slants and Roy's best was a slow 
roller to Miles at the initial sack. 

Fairfield, with that one big marker looming 
254 


THE LAST STAND. 

gloriously before their eyes from the score board 
in deep left-center, came to bat hungry for more. 
But a different brand of hurling was afforded 
them and two strike-outs and an infield out sent 
them back into the field, less some of their jaunti- 
ness. After all, thought they, one run was but a 
slight margin and the game was young. Then 
again, Greenshore was a foe who never diminished 
her bull-dog, game tactics till the last decision had 
been handed out. 

Wood pried loose Greenshore's third inning with 
a smoking single to center. Kemp atoned for his 
early misplay by sacrificing perfectly along the 
third-base line. With a man on second, a hit from 
Clark's bat meant a tie score. With all the 
strength of his fine young body and a frenzied 
yearning of his loyal, Greenshore heart, the boy 
did his best — a best not enough to send in the 
prayed for run, but sufficient to advance Wood to 
third — a long, high fly to Lawrence in right field. 

Koberts' second appearance at the plate was 
more of a personal success than his first, but again 
he profited his team nothing. He met one of 
Webb's twisters square on the nose but — short- 
stop Rapley gathered in the sizzling liner. 

Again Templeton caught Webb's eye as he 
255 


^^SKEETER^’ McCOY 

mounted the hill. Each lad again winked, but 
this time no word was spoken. 

It would be hard for us to imagine the emotions 
which tore at the heart of this finely proportioned 
young fellow as he stood sphinx-like in the pitch- 
er's box, pressure upon the cover of the ball driv- 
ing the blood from his finger tips. Yes — hard for 
you and me, but his team-mates, those boys behind 
him and upon the silent Greenshore bench — knew 
— and felt. They knew that personal glory was not 
in their captain's thoughts — that a Greenshore 
victory was, as it always had been in the past, his 
one aim. But also did they know their comrade's 
heart was torn with the thought and knowledge 
that he was serving the old school for the last time 
and that he was now concentrating every nerve, 
every fibre, every bit of knowledge and experience 
to the end that this last offering might add one 
more laurel to the wreath that he so fervently 
loved. They knew further that that one small, 
white mark upon the score-board was as a red-hot 
thorn in his side. 

The men on the field back of him, dear friends 
all, crouched and cooed hearty words of encour- 
agement. Those on the bench, no less tried and 
true, leaned forward and by their faces he read 
256 


THE LAST STAND. 

the message which unseen, anxious hearts flash- 
ed. 

Roy did not catch the eye of ‘Tlush.” That as- 
tute individual was seemingly busy fingering his 
score-card. But the boy understood. The man's 
very personality seemed to jump the space and 
set his pulses tingling with confidence — calm, cal- 
culating efficiency. 

And in the Greenshore section of the stand, con- 
fidence all undaunted, with no idea that Templeton 
could fail them in this final hour of need, they 
sang and stamped and cheered. 

Roy, waiting for Kemp — good old be-grimed, 
hard-working “Billie” Kemp, to strap on his pro- 
tector, glanced upon the men on the field about 
him and smiled; at the men on the bench and 
smiled ; at the gesticulating, hooting Fairfield sec- 
tion and grinned ; at the Greenshore section and — 
waved — yes, waved — and a little light-haired chap 
with large blue eyes waved back and felt warm all 
over his healthy little being. 

Roy found no difficulty in disposing of Miles, the 
jovial first sacker, via the strike-out route, but 
Berry added to his day's glory by sending a short 
Texas leaguer to an unguarded spot along the 
left-field foul line. 


257 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

With the count two and two on Newcomb, a 
steal of the mid-way bag was attempted, but the 
deadly arm of Kemp turned Berry back with 
yards to spare. The Greenshore twirler had sent 
in a *‘pitch-out” to aid his battery-mate in making 
a clear peg so that Newcomb now had the advant- 
age with three balls to his credit. 

Not wishing to take a chance of giving free 
transportation to first Templeton attempted to cut 
the inside corner with a fast in-curve, but the ball 
went wide of its mark by the fraction of an inch 
and the red- and black-hosed lad jogged joyfully 
down to first. This brought Webb up. Templeton 
knew that a desire, kindred to his own, burned be- 
neath the shirt of the calm boy before him. The 
first ball was close. Webb made no move. 

‘‘Ball one!’^ Webb pulled the visor of his cap 
a trifle lower. Templeton received the return 
toss from Kemp and shook his head at the latter's 
signal. No fast one for Webb ! Though batting 
at the foot of the list, due to a desire to save him, 
the Fairfield captain was known as no weakling 
with the stick. Ah, that was it! A fast-break- 
ing, shoulder-high, out-curve spanked into loyal 
“Bill's" mitt, evading the savage lunge of Webb's 
bat. Now a ball, a foul, another ball. Two and 
258 


THE LAST STAND. 

two! Templeton called all reserve skill into the 
next pitch. 

Its intended course will never be known, for at 
the preliminary wind-up the Fairfield Captain 
crept up fully a foot and gauged perfectly the on- 
coming white streak. A short, snappy swing and 
the stands gasped I Then as the destination of the 
ball become a certainty bedlam broke loose in the 
home school section. Quiet — immobility — reign- 
ed supreme among the Greenshore cadets. 

Outward and up — up — went the small white 
sphere until it resembled a wee bird against the 
blue May sky. Then, as if suddenly desiring a 
resting place upon the green turf beneath, it hes- 
itated — and began a gentle gliding course down- 
ward — its speed increasing until the center-field 
fence blotted it from view, even as the flying Clark 
crashed against the boards. 

A home-run with one man on ! Templeton, daz- 
ed, fighting hard to keep down the lump in his 
throat, saw the figure one withdrawn from the 
score-board and a brilliant white three take its 
place. 

Leash grounded to ^‘Tim” Keefe who threw low 
to Snowden. Jack made a pretty pickup but was 
drawn off the bag and the runner was safe. Tem- 
259 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

pleton faced about and smiled at his culprit hench- 
man at short, and then proceeded to lay Reed low 
with three pitched balls. 

Joe Mulvey hurried forward and threw his arms 
about Roy's shoulders as they walked into the 
bench. 

‘Tough, old chap. Closed his eyes and caught 
that one off his shoe-strings. Came out here load- 
ed with horse-shoes, but now the supply's about 
gone." Templeton knew better. Sheer merit had 
given the edge to the home club so far and, bruis- 
ed of spirit though he was, Templeton, in his 
heart, handed them credit. Yet the well-meant 
words of encouragement were not spoken without 
effect. Clearer and clearer the cadet leader real- 
ized that his men were fighting desperately back 
of him, not merely as co-workers for .the triumph 
of Greenshore, but as chums who suffered feeling- 
ly and inwardly more and more as the issue ap- 
peared to go against him. Came a change — and 
its effect was instant. 

“Come, boys. Let's get together. I've put you 
in the hole, but you can nose 'em out. Allright, 
Tim,' get on!" After the shock of a rather un- 
expected assault, the Greenshore captain had pull- 
ed himself together and was once more the force- 
260 


THE LAST STAND. 

ful, inspiring leader. “Plush,” nodding to him- 
self, spoke three low words to Keefe as that drawn- 
face boy stooped and fumbled for his favorite bat. 

“Wait him out.” 

This is exactly what anxious “Tim” did — ^wait- 
ed the pitcher out until the count was three balls 
and one strike. Then Webb shot over a “groover.” 
But orders were orders and the cadet restrained 
from accepting the tempting challenge. The next 
delivery brought a slow ball aimed at the very 
center of the plate, knee high. Webb was playing 
the game. Lazily the ball lobbed over its sixty- 
foot course and Keefe made the mistake of swing- 
ing with all his might. A weak infield fiy result- 
ed. The Fairfield second baseman stood in his 
tracks — grinning — and — dropped the ball ! A 
mad cry came from the cadet rooters. A relieved 
sigh escaped “Plush.” He scanned the bench. 

“Lewis, coach at first. Kemp, take third.” 
Both boys jumped at his command. 

Handsome Jack Snowden was already at bat. 
Apparently he bunted at the first pitch and miss- 
ed. The Fairfield third-baseman took a step for- 
ward and then back again. Again Webb wound 
up — delivered the ball. Again, to his sorrow, 
Newcomb involuntarily dashed forward, antici- 
261 


‘^SKEETER^^ McCOY 

pating the sacrifice. As if shot from a cannon the 
ball whizzed past him on the ground, reaching the 
fielder without having taken a single bound. 
Feverishly the Fairfield player blocked its course, 
fumbled, recovered and threw to third, but too 
late. Keefe, after a beautiful '"fade-a-way” slide 
arose and happily pounded the dust from his trou- 
sers. Jack had taken second on the throw-in. 

On the coaching lines Lewis was cake-walking 
and Kemp was turning cartwheel hand-springs. 
A wild furor arose from the cadet section. Joe 
Mulvey belligerently took his stand at the plate. 
The stage was all set for a Greenshore killing. 
Roy, on the bench, prayed that it might material- 
ize. ‘Tlush” and the rest of his boys felt that it 
would. 

In the field the Fairfield players became tense, 
set — and called intended cheery words to their 
pitcher in voices which tingled with the accents of 
anxiety. In his heart Webb felt a sinking feeling 
as he strove to shake off the feeling of impending 
disaster. Many times before had this boy been un- 
der fire and he held within his stockily built frame 
a wealth of courage and grit. In a moment he 
was calm — took a hitch at his belt and faced the 
stoic Mulvey. 


262 


THE LAST STAND. 

Alas for poor Joe's dream of bliss and glory ! A 
high foul, which Miles caught near his own bench, 
erased his disgusted personage from the scene of 
immediate usefulness. Joy warmed Webb's heart 
as he witnessed the play — a joy which was short- 
lived. Greenshore was in savage mood and wou'd 
not be denied. Snowden had taken Lewis' place 
in the coaching box and Harry now hurried forth, 
nerves atingle, face determined. A moment or 
two and the deed was done. The umpire's verdict 
stood two all and Webb was toiling and craftily 
planning as would have done credit to a time-worn 
leaguer, but to no avail. Splendid curve though 
the next offering was, it never reached the eager 
McGuire, squatting low behind the bat. The long, 
low drive was recovered with lightning speed by 
the desperate Leash and lined to third. 

Lewis had the throw beaten by several yards 
and Kemp flagged him to stop. The crowd, now 
on their feet screaming and cheering, was in for 
an additional thrill. Bad base ball it was, to be 
sure, but Lewis, knowing that Greenshore was 
still one run in arrears, forgetting for the instant 
that only one man was out and that two good hit- 
ters were on deck, tagged the canvass — ^veered — 
and kept on his flying and apparently suicidal way. 
263 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

^Tlush'’ jumped to his feet. A girl shrilly 
shrieked in the stand. Newcomb had his eye 
glued upon the speeding ball but he knew what 
was happening. He made the catch and in a 
twinkling he had hurled the ball with all his 
strength straight towards McGuire’s big mit at 
the plate — too straight — the flying runner felt the 
pellet burning into his shoulder-blade — dashed on 
over the rubber and the roar which surged over 
the field was rare music to his ears. The score 
was tied ! What matter if Templeton’s single was 
ruined by Wood hitting into a double play — if 
‘Tlush” did joyfully hand out what he, no doubt, 
figured were a few necessary words of rebuke ? 

What better asset towards true citizenship that 
our boys have cleanly and fairly waged and won 
— or iost — such battles as these ? 


264 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


When Defeat Is Triumph. 

F airfield, somewhat stunned by the sud- 
den turn of the game, fell easy victims to 
Templeton’s cunning and took the field si- 
lently. However, their expression and every 
move showed that this unexpected set-back had 
merely intensified their determination to snatch 
the final decision. A tie score to them meant 
nothing more or less than a new game. 

Webb’s face showed no trace of anger or dis- 
appointment. He went about his work calmly — 
craftily. He soon had Kemp at his mercy with 
the count two strikes and no balls. ‘"Bill,” how- 
ever, forced the pitcher to work his prettiest. 
Twice in succession he refused to go after offer- 
ings wide of the plate and three times he delayed 
his own return to the bench by fouling perfectly 
good strikes. Warily the Fairfield hurler tried 
for the inside corner. The ball was a trifle high. 
Another foul and a swift-breaking drop sent the 
disgusted Kemp back to the bat-boy. 

265 


“SKEETER^^ McCOY 

Clark singled and Roberts walked. A short out- 
field fiy from Keefers bludgeon failed to advance 
either runner and a circus catch of Snowden’s long 
drive cut short another Greenshore rally. 

Such a ball game had seldom been witnessed in 
Keatsville, home of Fairfield Institute. School- 
boy diamond battles, as a rule, are loosely-played, 
big-score affairs, savoring of little which would 
appeal to the average 'Yan.” It stands to reason 
that any contest, ever so ragged, never fails to ap- 
peal to the emotions, lung-power and spontaneity 
of rival student bands, but the real thrills of the 
game are generally lacking in such contests. Not 
so in this memorable struggle. Brilliant fielding, 
strategy, finished twirling — all had thus far been 
constantly in evidence and now in the fifth inning 
the fi^its of effort were evenly divided. 

All present in the park had thoroughly enjoyed 
the struggle, and interest, even among rank out- 
siders, parties owing allegiance to neither school, 
was at high tide. Real base ball was being offer- 
ed and the crowded stands were appreciatively 
tense, expectant and hopeful of added thrills. 

They did not have to wait long. Roy’s first de- 
livery to McGuire dropped safely back of second. 
Lawrence’s intended sacrifice materialized into a 
266 


WHEN DEFEAT IS TRIUMPH, 
life, Roberts throwing low from third over to the 
initial sack. Again Snowden made a great play 
on the error. Templeton, nettled, threw two balls 
before gaining a strike decision. 

Rapley misjudged his next pitch and allowed a 
clipped corner to go as a strike. 

''Right down the old alley, pal. Plenty of 
smoke, pep and ginger. The harder they come, 
the better they stick. Work hard!” Kemp^s 
outstretched arms moved slowly outward and in- 
ward again, focusing the plate for Templeton. 

"Ball three I” 

"Steady, Roy boy. One more in the groove — 
not too fat, chief, old top. Take the leading lady I” 
Through the bars of the mask the back-stop's 
eyes fairly pleaded. Templeton meant to answer 
that pleading. Kemp had asked for "smoke” and 
he got it. Rapley swung as the sphere spanked 
into the mitt behind him. 

"You're out!” 

"Pitching ball, boy; pitching ball!” "Bill” 
took a few steps towards his captain before lob- 
bing the ball back. 

Miles all but tore the glove from Templeton's 
hand with a vicious line drive. The ball rebound- 
ed towards first base, its force broken. Jack 
267 


‘‘SKEETER” McCOY 

Snowden recovered and threw on a line to Roberts 
in an attempt to head off the flying McGuire. It 
was a close play, clouds of dust holding the de- 
cision in doubt until an upward jerk of the um- 
pire's right arm brought joy to Greenshore's ad- 
herents and a roar of applause for Snowden's 
alertness. 

The home coaches begged for a hit and Berry 
delivered — a ringing single to short-center. Clark 
took the bounding ball on a dead run and hurled 
it towards the plate with all the force at his com- 
mand. Straight as an arrow it went into Kemp's 
waiting mit, but a trifle late. 

Lawrence, in a whirl of dust, slid over the plate 
as the Greenshore catcher received the ball. 
Without waiting an instant, Kemp lined the ball 
back to second in time to nip Berry in an attempt 
to advance on the throw-in. It was a dangerous 
play, as Miles had already pulled up at third and 
dashed for the plate as Kemp threw. 

The side was retired, but again Fairfield was out 
in front with a one run lead. 

Greenshore gamely fought to produce the need- 
ed marker in her half of the sixth, but to no avail. 
Mulvey fanned, Lewis was safe on an error. Tem- 
pleton flied out. Wood waited for a count of two 
268 


WHEN DEFEAT IS TRIUMPH, 
and three and then brought the crowd to their feet 
with a terrific drive to the right field wall, but a 
groan went up from the visitors^ section when it 
was seen that the ball would fall foul by a few feet 
only. Nothing daunted, the Greenshore fielder 
proceeded to chop the next ball into a safe spot 
back of third. This gave the cadets a runner up- 
on first and second with two out. 

Kemp made a desperate attempt to grant the 
prayer of his mates. After two balls, a foul and 
a called strike, he connected solidly with one of 
Webb’s fastest. Rapley, at short-field, did well 
to get in front of the ball, which was driven well 
towards third. So great was its speed that it 
careened off the Fairfield youngster’s leg and — 
bounded straight into the hands of the third-base- 
man who slapped it on Lewis as the latter attempt- 
ed an evading slide. 

Templeton felt, as he hurried from the bench, 
that the breaks of the game had prevented him 
from again standing upon level ground. But his 
mettle was thoroughly aroused thereby and, back- 
ed by chirping and determined mates, he soon dis- 
posed of Newman. Webb once more showed his 
all-around prowess by denting Roy’s delivery for 
269 


^^SKEETER’’ McCOY 

a scorching single but Leash and Reed could not 
advance their captain. 

The seventh and eighth innings were unproduc- 
tive for either school, though Fairfield nearly 
added a marker as the result of McGuire's gaining 
free transportation by being struck with the ball 
and an error on Lawrence's infield tap. The suc- 
ceeding batsmen could not solve Templeton's 
wares. 

Greenshore went out in order in both the 
seventh and eighth innings. Yet the splendid ca- 
det spirit kept them every instant at the task of 
overtaking the foe. As they reached the bench, 
ready for their final turn at bat, the beloved 
strains of “Greenshore's Sons" rolled from the 
stands. One line only was needed to shape them 
for their best. 

'Tight for ever, be discouraged never" — 

"You bet," huskily muttered Roy, as he select- 
ed his bat. 

They still talk about that drive in Greenshore. 
It is written large in the athletic history of that 
fine, time-honored institution. Any cadet of the 
present day will tell you how the racing Fairfield 
left-fielder. Leash, saw the flying sphere pass on 
a line, thirty feet above his head and crash against 
270 


WHEN DEFEAT IS TRIUMPH, 
the upper wooden frame-work of the wire screen 
upon the fence-top. And they will almost sob 
when they tell you how that drive rebounded to- 
wards the fielder, enabling him to hold the cadet 
captain at third. But we are getting ahead of 
our story. 

Wood walked and stole second. ^‘BilF’ Kemp 
carved his name forever into the hearts of Green- 
shore's hosts by sending Roy in with a freak hit 
to short right-field. Wood was held at third. 

Webb, with an iron clutch at his heart, deliber- 
ately waited for a return of his usual calm. It 
came. 

Kemp took second on the first pitch. Clark 
fanned. Roberts hit to Rapley who retired him 
at first. Wood tried desperately for the plate but 
the entire play was perfectly executed and Mc- 
Guire pressed the ball on him, while his toe was 
yet four inches from the rubber. Again the score 
was tied ! 

Newman, Webb and Leash could do nothing for 
Fairfield in her half of the ninth. An extra- 
inning game! No wonder the strain was begin- 
ning to tell upon boyish faces and boyish nerves. 
Older persons felt the spice of clean, hard-fought 
battle in the air and older pulses quickened as 
271 


‘‘SKEETER^^ McCOY 

they scanned the field for each move which might 
affect in any way the verdict. 

Keefe caused Webb to deliver five balls before 
he finally succumbed. Snowden picked out a good 
one and drove it between second and short. Mul- 
vey flew out to center. 

As Webb drew back his arm for the initial pitch 
to Lewis, Joe dashed for second. McGuire's throw 
was wide and bounded into the outfield, allowing 
Mulvey to reach third. It remained for Harry 
Lewis to draw the goat's lot. With a fierce yearn- 
ing in his heart, a half-prayer upon his lip and, 
finally, a tear in his eye, this loyal boy, heart- 
broken, struck for the third time and — missed ! 

Reed was the first batter to face Templeton. 
Roy was steady despite the situation, the out- 
come of which meant so much to him. He went 
to work upon the Fairfield batsman with all the 
brain and brawn which he possessed. This fact, 
added to the over-anxiousness of his opponent, 
brought failure and chagrin to the latter. Three 
successive strikes brought the ponderous Fair- 
field catcher, McGuire, to the plate. 

Roy respected this lad and strove his best to 
deceive him into going after ‘'bad ones." This 
McGuire refused to do but the first one which was 
272 


WHEN DEFEAT IS TRIUMPH, 
destined to clip the plate he swung on. Away it 
soared into the outer garden for a three-base re- 
ward. 

Fairfield rooters went wild. The dial was now 
controlled by Lawrence and they plead with him 
to deliver, but his best was a pop-fly to little Rob- 
erts, which the latter all but dropped in his eager- 
ness. Rapley, next Fairfield batter, remained 
calm and alert, while Templeton toiled to stave off 
the threatened tally. Then the strain told on the 
cadet hurler. Even as he snapped the ball from 
his hand he knew the game was over. Three feet 
in front of the plate it struck and bounded past 
the finger-tips of Kemp as he dove desperately to 
his right. 

For an instant the park swam round and round. 
He felt the sympathetic slaps of his mates' hands 
upon his shoulders — heard his name at the end of 
the “Greenshore Rattler.” Then he brushed his 
dampened sleeve across his eyes and stepped to- 
wards the home team's bench. 

Fairfield's loyal were bounding from the stands 
and were headed towards their favorites. But 
Webb saw Templeton coming and went forward to 
meet him. Their hands clasped. 

'Tour day, Webbie. You certainly had the old 
273 


‘^SKEETER” McCOY 

‘zip/ Put it there.” Roy^s dust-streaked face 
was a picture fit for an artist's brush. 'Tis hard 
to fight and give your all and lose. Real men can 
do it, and Templeton was a man. 

“Thanks, Templeton. You were a bit off-color 
but you carried us to the limit. The breaks came 
our way, too, and don't you forget it.” Webb's 
honest blue eyes danced and rippled as he spoke. 
It takes real men to win and, through magnani- 
mity, dilute the bitter of the vanquished's cup. 
But Webb was a real man. 

“Plush,” hurrying his charges into their sweat- 
ers and fuming consolatory words at them, stop- 
ped as he saw the meeting of the rival captains. 
Upon Templeton he gazed, wistfully, and his eyes 
filled — at the little blue and white flag stuck in a 
crevice in the roof of the Greenshore bench and 
he threw his shoulders back. A line from Father 
Ryan's tribute to Lee, passing through his mind, 
accounted, no doubt, for his sudden calm and feel- 
ing of contentment. He mumbled the words : 

“Defeated, yet without a stain.” 

And with that he folded and pocketed his score- 
card and followed his defeated boys out of the 
park. 


274 


CHAPTER XIX. 


All In AU. 

T he moon flooded the quiet campus with its 
silver-white brilliancy. Distant melodies 
of guitar and mandolin floated from open 
barrack windows and carried on the warm night 
breezes. The breath of spring, odorous with Na- 
ture's sweetest, gently fanned the maple leaves 
above. 

At the foot of the tree, grand old Greenshore 
relic, upon the mossy green turf, through which 
the violets were beginning to peep, sat two boys — 
one large and one small — sat — and nothing more. 

The town clock in the neighboring village struck 
the hour of ten. In the distance river craft 
greetings echoed hoarsely over the water. 

In the heart of each lad were emotions at once 
bitter and sweet. It was the eve of Commence- 
ment, that most glorious yet saddest of school-boy 
experiences. Tis then that the earnest student, 
looking proudly back over months which have 
been correctly lived, glories in accomplishments 
275 ^ 


‘‘SKEETER^’ McCOY 

of brain and brawn, places the proper valuation 
upon those with whom he has toiled and, best of 
all, sees himself as he appears in the making. The 
entire process — ^the initial dive into a new life — 
the exactments of a new law and adjustments vol- 
untarily and unconsciously made in one^s self to 
meet the edicts of carefully controlled thought and 
action — the exit of selfishness — ^the entry of sym- 
pathy, compassion and helpfulness, the fitting of 
the individual cog of desire into the wheel of dem- 
ocratic need — the lessons of loyalty — ^the fruits of 
a real code of honor — in short, all those forces 
which gradually tune and adjust the strings of a 
young life to the conditions, mandates and needs 
of God's green universe — ^furnish to those passing 
outward over the work-shop threshold food for de- 
liberation and thanksgiving. 

Thus it was with Templeton. In his soul was 
the song of the triumphant — the deserving. Be- 
hind him were four years of earnest endeavor and 
the reward was near at hand. Yet when he 
thought of the separation from many friends, 
tried and true, the severing of fond Greenshore 
ties which must take place on the morrow, his joy 
was tinged with regret. 

With ‘^Skeeter" it was somewhat different. His 
276 


ALL IN ALL. 

vista still showed three unmarked, untrod years. 
Greenshore was yet his — an actual possession and 
he felt the warmth of her protecting wing. Her 
mark was upon him. This he knew and gloried 
in. He had merely tasted of her offerings, to be 
sure, but he had found them good. 

‘T tell you, little pal, I am just beginning to 
realize that being a senior has its handicaps.^^ 
Templeton broke the spell. 

‘‘Think so?'’ asked McCoy. “I wish I were a 
senior.” 

“Ah, but you don't know. I tell you, ‘Skeeter,' 
life at the old school has been sweet. When I 
think of the boy whom my dear old dad first sent 
here and figure how that same boy has gained in 
a myriad of ways — ^has been fondly guarded and 
nourished and developed, the promise of tomorrow 
is somewhat dimmed by the knowledge that the 
old day is done — the glad times gone. In my 
heart, ‘Skeeter,' I know that to me Greenshore 
has meant all in all. What I may ever be or ever 
do, to her banner will I point as the pilot of my 
destiny when the seas are rough and the rocks 
numerous.'' 

Little McCoy glanced at his idol beside him. 
Never had he respected and loved Roy as at that 
277 


‘‘SKEETER’’ McCOY 

moment. The depth of the other's feeling could 
not fail to be seen and understood. And from 
such a friend — such a man — tomorrow he would 
become separated. 

Tears flooded his eyes and he turned his head 
away. Greenshore was his for years yet. Old 
friendships would be renewed in the Fall — ^new 
ones made — Greenshore's possibilities offered 
anew — ^but the constant association, the fond, un- 
selfish guardianship of Templeton would cease. 

‘‘Roy, I shall miss you here but I will follow you 
through your college days. And you must write 
your little pal and tell me all the wonderful things 
you do. You will, won't you?" “Skeeter" snug- 
gled closer over to Templeton. 

“You bet I will write, kiddie. But I am afraid 
I will have no wonderful heroic deeds to boast to 
you of. You must remember the story of the tad- 
pole of the pond which suddenly woke up to find 
himself in the depth of the sea. But I shall try to 
make good for the sake of your fine little confi- 
dence as well as for old Greenshore." 

A noisy group suddenly emerged from the sally- 
port of the east barracks and headed their way. 
As they approached their clear young voices were 
278 


ALL IN ALL. 

raised in one of the Blue and White's favorite 
battle-songs. 

Templeton and McCoy added all the fervor of 
their loyal hearts to the chorus. And from a far 
corner of the campus, another little group took 
up the refrain. 

There were no sects tonight. A united band of 
boys, sharing a kindred love for the whole — over 
looking with pleasure to the promise of vacation 
days — anon, steeling themselves for the ordeal of 
separation, in some cases, permanent, in others 
temporary, from all the joys which this ideal 
school and home afforded them. 

Old familiar nooks about the campus, beloved 
haunts and rallying spots, soon to become hallow- 
ed in fondest memory, were peeped into and trod 
by the restless roamers of the night before. 

It was upon the quiet, dimly-lighted athletic 
field that Templeton's little band of comrades 
lingered the longest. As he dug his toe beneath 
the sod of the soft soil he drew in a huge draught 
of the cool night air with a sound almost a sob. 
A few feet in front of him a faint trace of the 
fifty-yard line still remained. A panorama of past 
events flashed before him. 

He wheeled and before him was the little mound 
279 


“SKEETER” McCOY 

of the pitcher's box, dented with a slight excava- 
tion dug by his own toiling toe. The group mov- 
ed on. 

The white, sandy region about second base was 
soon smoothed by their eager hands and names, al- 
ready written vividly in the school's history, were 
hastily scratched where, in the early morning 
hours, dear old 'Tlush," wakeful and sad, as each 
June found him, drawn as if by a magnet to the 
identical spot trod a few hours before by the boys 
who had fought, bled and labored there for him — 
read and understood — and his weazened old face 
wrinkled deeper and deeper as, sitting alone on 
the slope, he communed with the past and the 
stars. 

The following morning brought the usual influx 
of parents, relatives and admirers and the fore- 
noon up until the actual opening of the final ex- 
ercises was filled with joy and good-fellowship. 

Captain Heywood and his staff of instructors 
were here, there and everywhere, beaming hospi- 
tality upon the Academy's guests and joining 
heartily in the jollification of the cadets. Yet 
beneath the outward smile and business-like bus- 
tle of these men, especially Captain Heywood, a 
plaintive air could be detected. Not alone by the 
280 


ALL IN ALL. 

boys was the deep-toned sentiment of Commence- 
ment time appreciated and experienced. 

Many things were said and done as the pro- 
gram ran its course. Many happy lads left the 
rostrum, carrying some token of reward or es- 
teem, amid thunderous applause. The Valedictor- 
ian, Webster, in a touching farewell, brought the 
tears to the eyes of old and young alike, but it re- 
mained for the owner of the school, struggling 
hard to keep the quivers away from the corners 
of his mouth, with a few well-chosen words to the 
graduating class, to finally envelope the hearts of 
all with the folds of the Blue and White, cement 
forever within their breasts the ideals and code 
of the school which they were about to leave and, 
lastly, to cause them to see through the mist and 
sadness of farewell, the pointed finger of Destiny 
as it showed the way onward and upward to still 
greater things. 

To each lad, as the coveted sheepskin was de- 
livered, the whole-souled man, infinite feeling and 
tenderness in his eyes, spoke impromptu words 
which surged from the heart. Templeton, senior 
in rank, graduated first, and as the parchment 
touched his white glove, its little ribbons fiutter- 
ing in the slight breeze from the open chapel win- 
281 


^‘SKEETER’" McCOY 

dow, he thrilled with pride and little chilly vibra- 
tions ran relay races over his entire being. 

Back went his shoulders and, at attention, eyes 
looking deep within those of his superior, he list- 
ened to the words which were to strengthen his 
resolution, ease the sting of defeat, prod on weary 
body and ebbing spirits in many future battles. 

* 'Templeton, my boy — my man — this moment 
gives me at once great pleasure and selfish pain. 
Your life here has been as a mirror and its re- 
flection has been witnessed by all and your asso- 
ciates have been strengthened thereby. Green- 
shore's banner you must now carry forward with 
you out into other fields of your choice. Her 
standards of life and thought and action you must 
exemplify as vividly and courageously as you have 
worn her colors successfully and cleanly. We are 
proud of our product. In the hollow of your hand 
you hold our stamped approval, engraved upon 
sheepskin. It is our message to the world that 
you have undergone the test and have not been 
found wanting.” 

The gloved right hand of the Commandant sud- 
denly reached out and clasped the trembling glov- 
ed hand of his cadet. Transfixed they stood, full 
in the golden rays of the sun as, from a figured 
282 


ALL IN ALL. 

window high on the chapel wall, it shed its cheery 
warmth upon them. It was a beautiful scene. 
Not a sound or move came from the large audience. 
Outside a lark sang. It was the message of the 
hour. The extended hands unclasped and the 
spell was broken. 

A tumultuous roar which lasted for a full min- 
ute served to convince Templeton still further 
that the greatest moment of his life had come and 
passed. 

iie4c4e4(H(3i(9|(>ic4c:ic 

Came the distant toot of a whistle. It was the 
prelude of the knell. Unconsciously eyes, lit with 
the beauty of friendship's understanding, met 
other eyes similarly illuminated, palms found and 
clung to other palms, and boyhood's farewell was 
silently but powerfully spoken. The rumbling 
roar of a locomotive as, brake-bound, it glided into 
the station, a scramble for suitcases, another 
spontaneous gripping of hands which seemed 
loath to let go — '‘All aboard !" The moment had 
come. 

Standing upon the rear platform, Templeton 
and his friends watched the little station grow 
smaller in the distance — ^heard the final acclaim 
from the little group in gray in its foreground. 

^ 283 


‘^SKEETER” McCOY 

Their arms were moving like propellers as they 
struggled to hurl through the increasing distance 
an answering message of appreciation and love. 

The train wound around a curve and the pic- 
ture was blotted from the glistening eyes of the 
little group whose hearts were keeping time with 
the tattoo of the wheels as they sped faster and 
faster over the rails. No boy spoke. They were 
waiting for one final, infinitely sweet moment. It 
came, and their souls swelled, and water gushed 
from their straining eyes. 

Between two parallel mountain ranges, as if a 
special privilege donated by Nature, the view was 
for a few seconds unobstructed. Upon the dear 
old hill, far in the distance — seeming almost to 
ride the horizon, stood the Greenshore cluster and 
in the windows of her gray towers the afternoon 
sun had placed, as it were, lamps — ^final guides to 
her departing sons. 

And high against the blue sky the national em- 
blem, spreading lazily to the June breezes, waved 
them a last fond farewell from Greenshore Acad- 
emy, builder of men, and called them to new fields, 
new efforts and new duties in their preparation 
for true American citizenship. 


THE END. 


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